


To Spark a Flame

by TobytheWise



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dystopia, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Hunger Games Tributes, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Nightmares, Omega Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobytheWise/pseuds/TobytheWise
Summary: The Hunger Games are a sport designed by President Shurley to remind the Districts of the rebellion and keep everyone in their place, pinning one omega and one alpha from each District against each other, forcing them to fight to the death. Once a Victor has won a Games, they were supposed to be forever safe. But this year, a Quarter Quell, existing Victors are going back into the arena.Dean is the lone victor of his District and his mate, Castiel, volunteers to be Dean’s alpha counterpart. Everyone who is reaped this year, has bucked the system one way or another and Dean realizes quickly, this is President Shurley’s way of attempting to put out the flame of rebellion the Victors have started, hoping by putting them back in the arena, it will calm the districts. Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect.Dean just wants to get himself and Cas through another arena alive, but little does he know, he’s yet another piece in the grand scheme of things as people use him to rally the rebellion.Will this be Dean’s last Games? Or will this be the last Games ever?A Catching Fire AU
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 103
Collections: SPN Media Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the HUNGER GAMES! *applause, oohs, and awwwws* This was written for the SPN Media Big Bang. Shoutout to the mods for making this bang happen! :D
> 
> I'd like to take a moment to thank my artist! [Ncdover](https://ncdover1285.tumblr.com/post/615829728976388096/art-for-the-story-to-spark-a-flame-by-the) did a FANTASTIC job. The art is absolutely gorgeous and she encouraged me so much while reading through my story <3 <3
> 
> Thank you to my betas, Banshee and Shikaro. You both made the story look pretty and I appreciate the hell out of you!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy! :D

****

**Dean**

The ground under his shoes thumps as Dean runs. His breathing is labored, his lungs are beginning to burn, and sweat is dripping into his eyes, but he keeps going. He runs through town, keeping his eyes to the ground. It’s better than seeing the worried,  _ pitying _ looks people keep giving him. It’s bad enough Cas has them training like this. Everything is utter bullshit. But he keeps going. Because stopping isn’t an option. 

Dean passes by the fence. Before he can help himself, and because he’s obviously a masochist, he looks longingly out at the forest. It would be so easy to slip through, to run through the forest he loves. But then he looks over at his running partners and knows he can’t. Not right now at least. 

District Twelve is large enough for a decent run. They run all the way down the path towards the mines before turning back, running through town, and finishing back at Victor’s Lane. 

“Jesus,” Dean gasps out as they finally come to a stop. He stretches his muscles while he’s still warm, not wanting to cramp up now that they’ve stopped. “You’d think I’d be in better shape.”

“At least you’re  _ young _ ,” Bobby gripes, still trying to catch his breath. Dean knows he’d rather be drowning in booze right now, but Cas keeps them both going, keeps them fighting. 

It’s been two years since his own Games, leaving him the youngest of their little group of Victors. Cas’ was the year before Dean’s, while Bobby’s Games were exactly twenty-five years ago. Another Quarter Quell. Like rounding up twenty-four kids, putting them in an arena, and then watching them fight to the death wasn’t ‘exciting’ enough, every twenty-five years, the Capitol demands a Quarter Quell, throwing some sort of extra jazz into the mix. 

The year that Bobby won, they picked double the amount of Tributes. Dean shudders, thinking about going against forty-seven people instead of the usual twenty-three. 

_ Dean sits beside his mate, snuggled against his side as their eyes stare at their television. Dean remembers a time when he couldn’t imagine having a mate, resigning himself to a life of being alone. All his life, his only mission was to keep his family safe, to keep his brother fed.  _

_ Everything changed the day Sammy’s name was pulled from the Reaping Bowl. Dean did what no one from District Twelve had ever done; he volunteered. He promised Sam he would try to win, that he would try to fight his way back. And that’s exactly what he did. The day he won his Hunger Games was the day things began to change.  _

_ Cas squeezes, his hold tightening around Dean as President Shurley steps in front of the camera. Just the sight of him is enough to have Dean’s throat swallowing down bile. The national anthem begins to play, the Capitol’s flag flying behind the President. It’s all so over the top, giving the people of the Capitol the entertainment they crave.  _

_ Once the music stops, President Shurley smiles at the camera and begins to speak. He tells about the making of Panem. How their country rose from the ashes of a place that was once called North America. Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by thirteen districts. There was peace and prosperity until the Dark Days. The Dark Days were an uprising from the Districts against the Capitol that led to twelve Districts being defeated and the thirteenth being obliterated. Then the President talks about the Treaty of Treason which allowed them to live in peace. And with the Treaty of Treason came the Hunger Games, a yearly reminder to the Districts of the Dark Days in hopes that they’ll never be repeated.  _

_ The Hunger Games are their punishment for uprising, taking an omega and an alpha from each district as Tribute, pitting them against each other in a fight to the death.  _

_ “This year we will be celebrating a Quarter Quell to make fresh the memory of those killed by the Districts’ rebellion,” President Shurley says, and the pit of Dean’s stomach falls out. He might only be an omega in District Twelve but he’s heard the whispers, he knows there’s people rebelling right now and the President wants to squelch that.  _

_ A small boy walks up to President Shurley, dressed in a pristine white suit. He hands the President a wooden box which contains an envelope. They watch as he opens it, the tiniest smile playing at his lips as he continues, “on the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the omega and alpha tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of Victors.” _

_ “No,” Cas gasps out as Dean stares at the screen unseeing. “You son of a bitch!” _

_ It doesn’t hit Dean. Until it suddenly does. There are only three living Victors in District Twelve. Dean Winchester, an omega. Castiel Novak, an alpha. And Bobby Singer, an alpha. Dean is going back into the arena. And either his mentor or his mate is coming with him.  _

Dean shakes his head, trying to forget about that night. There’s nothing he can do but follow Cas’ training plans. Not that he has anything better to do. After winning his Games, Dean’s been moved into a giant house that’s too big for him, given more money than he knows what to do with. While other people in his District starve, he’s got an over-abundance. 

“Today we’re practicing knives,” Cas tells him, coming back from their house with a sleeve of throwing knives. 

“I don’t even wanna know where you got those, Cas,” Dean murmurs. 

“Peacekeepers can be bought just as much as everyone else. Plus, they know they’re just for practice. There’s a few even betting on you and that means giving you the best advantage they can.”

“Great,” Dean says, shaking his head. “People are already betting on whether or not I die in there.”

“At least they’re betting for you to get out,” Bobby says with a grimace. 

It goes without saying that each of the alphas are hoping the other’s name is called on Reaping Day. Because if Cas’ name is called, Bobby can volunteer, keeping Cas safe. But if Bobby’s name is called, Cas will be the one volunteering. 

Dean’s heart breaks thinking about Cas being back in the Arena. As much as he’s resigned himself to his own fate, there’s a tiny piece of hope that Cas will be kept safe. But when have the odds ever been in their favor?

It’s not until later, after they’ve played with their knives and practiced hand to hand combat for hours that Cas finally lets them off for the night. Part of Dean wants to pull Cas into their home, shove him upstairs until they’re in their room, away from everyone else in the world and force him to snuggle with Dean in their nest. But the bigger part of Dean needs the forest, his one safe haven. 

He takes Cas’ hand in his own, smiling when the alpha squeezes back. “Let’s go for a walk,” Dean says under his breath. It’s their code and Cas is instantly onboard. 

They walk to the edge of District Twelve until they’re no longer in sight of the Peacekeepers. Right behind Dean’s old home, which is slowly falling apart now that he’s not there to keep up on it, is a spot in the fence they can easily slip through. Dean lets out a sigh of relief as the woods surround them. 

“I wish I listened to you that day,” Cas says under his breath. “We should have ran.”

Dean shakes his head. “I can’t think like that. Not anymore.”

They stop at the stump that holds Dean’s bow and quiver and continue walking deeper into the woods. These woods have become Dean’s second home, a place he finds his peace as well as a place that feeds his family. Before his Games, he came into these woods every single day in order to feed his mother and Sammy. It was a godsend when his Arena turned out to be a forest, giving him a slight advantage against the others. 

“Did you hear the latest?” Cas asks gently. 

“Yeah. Apparently the Peacekeepers are complaining about their lack of seafood in their latest shipment. That means District Four.”

Each District has their own specialty. District Four supplies fish while District Twelve supplies coal. As the uprisings are starting to creep up, Dean and Cas have noticed certain things are in less supply. 

There’s always been rumblings about how unfair the Capitol is, taking their children from them and how there was nothing the Districts could do about it, always under the Capitol’s thumb. It wasn’t until Dean’s Games that the rumblings got stronger, louder. It wasn’t until Dean decided he wasn’t going to play the Games the way the Capitol demanded. In his own way, Dean rebelled, giving others the strength to do the same. With some pretty flowers and a handful of berries, Dean lit a spark. He just hopes others will be able to fan that spark to make a flame. Hell, maybe he’ll be able to do it while in the Arena. 

“I won’t play their game,” Dean says out of nowhere because it’s the only thing on his mind lately. “They can force me back into the Arena but I won’t let them change me.”

“I know,” Cas says quietly. “That’s what I love about you.”

“I thought it was my ass.”

Cas shakes his head, the sides of his lips curving up ever so slightly. “That too.”

They keep walking until the little cabin out here, in the middle of nowhere, comes into view. “Cas,” Dean whispers, unable to look over at his mate. “Please don’t volunteer.”

Cas freezes. “I can’t promise that.”

“Cas,  _ please _ .”

“Dean. You can’t ask that of me. You’re my  _ mate _ . I won’t let you go in there without an ally if I can help it.”

“Stubborn knothead,” Dean says under his breath. 

“Stubborn omega,” Cas says back. 

Dean wants to scream, yell, throw the biggest fucking tantrum of his life. But he doesn’t, he just keeps moving forward. Dean remembers the first time his father brought him to this cabin. He also remembers bringing Cas here for the first time. This is where he has fond memories of his father. And the fond memories of making love to his mate for the first time. 

Living in Victor’s Lane was an adjustment that Cas made easier. They’re the only ones who truly understand each other. Cas is there when Dean wakes up screaming from a nightmare and Dean is there when Cas has flashbacks. They got through together. It was simple to take their relationship from neighbors to lovers and then to mates. The only thing they haven’t done is shared Dean’s heat. Because despite being Victors, the Hunger Games always hung over Dean’s head and he refused to have a child who would have the possibility of being reaped. 

It takes Dean a little too long to realize the cabin isn’t unoccupied. He stops Cas before taking out his bow and nocking an arrow. He raises his brows, letting Cas know someone is here. He creeps forward, his feet not making a sound with years of practice. 

Someone opens the cabin door but freezes as soon as they see Dean. They raise their hands in the air in surrender. “Who are you?” Dean demands, his voice hard and unwavering. 

“Please don’t shoot,” she says softly. 

Cas steps forward, blocking Dean’s shot and Dean curses under his breath. “What’s your name?”

The woman is wearing a Peacekeeper uniform but it doesn’t exactly fit. “My name is Ruby.”

“Why the hell are you out here?” Dean calls out. 

“You’re Dean Winchester,” she says instead of answering. “I’m on your side. I’m from District Eight.”

Dean slowly lowers his bow. “What do you mean you’re on my side?”

“I’m on the side of the rebellion.”

The tiniest bit of hope floods Dean’s belly. There  _ are _ rebellions going on. Maybe the Games won’t happen. But then Dean remembers that the cameras are coming  _ tomorrow _ . There’s not enough time for a full scale rebellion that would get them out of this. 

“Tell us everything,” Cas says as all three of them go into the cabin. And she does. Ruby talks about slowly stealing the Peacekeeper uniform. She tells them about the plans for a full scale uprising that was quickly put out by bombings. She barely got out alive. Ruby took the chance she was given and left, hiding in storage trains before traveling through the woods. 

“You know,” Ruby says with a small smile. “I wasn’t sure you two were real. I thought maybe this whole being mated thing was just another ploy from the Capitol, making you the darlings of Panam.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. “I’m not really your normal omega. I don’t really fit the part of darling.”

“You don’t,” Ruby says with a laugh. But then her face softens. “But now that I’ve smelled you I can tell it’s the truth. You two are the real deal.”

Dean’s eyes find Cas’ for a moment before he’s pushing on, wanting answers. “What are your plans?” Dean asks. “Where are you going?”

“To District Thirteen,” she tells him, her brows wrinkling. “There are whispers that the Capitol didn’t actually obliterate them. That they’re there, living underground. They’re the key.”

Dean doesn’t have the heart to disagree with her or take her little bit of hope away. He takes a moment to give her his spare knife, teaching her tricks to keep her alive in the woods. As the sun begins to set, he wishes her good luck and they make their way back to town. 

“Do you think it might be true?” Cas whispers. 

“I doubt it,” Dean says honestly. “And if they really are there, I hate them. I hate them for sitting with their thumbs in their asses while we suffer.”

“Dean--”

“No. I’m done. I’m done thinking about rebellions, I’m done thinking about ‘what if’s’. The truth is, tomorrow I’m getting reaped,” Dean grits out as he throws his bow into its hiding place. “Tomorrow you or Bobby are getting reaped.” His voice breaks and Dean clears his throat, trying to gain some form of composure. “So instead of worrying about Ruby finding her way to a pile of smoking rubble, I’m going to enjoy the last night I have with my mate before I’m whisked away to my death. Because let’s be honest for one second, Cas. President Shurley isn’t letting me walk back out.”

Cas grabs the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads connect. “You do not get to talk like that. You do not get to just  _ give up _ .”

Dean feels his eyes prickle unpleasantly. He tries to shake his head again but Cas’ grip tightens. “Just like Sam made you promise your first Games, I’m making you promise this time, too.”

“Cas--”

Cas cuts him off with a kiss. It’s absolutely brutal. No finesse, no gentleness. Just fierce lips slamming against Dean’s, harsh teeth nipping against Dean’s lips, a dominating tongue invading Dean’s mouth. It steals his breath while making a fire burn in Dean’s belly. 

“ _ Promise me _ ,” Cas begs, his voice cracking. 

“Fine. I promise,” Dean says before pulling Cas’ face back, kissing him with the same hurried intensity as before. 

Cas rips Dean’s pants open, shoving them down before spinning him around. Dean’s front is plastered against the nearest tree and he shivers as his ass is exposed to the cold air. Cas is right there within moments, crowding against his back. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean gasps out as Cas fills him. It fucking hurts, the burn overwhelming. But it’s exactly what he needs. He needs to  _ feel _ . 

Cas’ mouth attaches to the side of his throat, right over his mating bite. “You’re mine,” Cas gets out between bites. “Mine, Dean. President Shurley can’t fucking have you.”

Dean’s body breaks out in goosebumps as Cas fucks him fast and hard. He pants against his arm as the burning stretch fades into overwhelming pleasure. It makes him ache in the best way, all his previous worries and frustrations leaving until the only thing he can focus on is Cas, Cas,  _ Cas. _

“This is what I need you to focus on,” Cas says as he licks across Dean’s mating bite. “This feeling, Dean. I need you to remember what you’re fighting for.”

Dean bites his arm so hard he’s sure there will be a bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care. Can’t. Because there’s truth in what Cas is saying. 

Dean lets out a broken sob before blurting out, “I promise. I promise to fight. They can’t have me because I’m  _ yours _ .” 

Dean cries out as Cas strokes his erection, forcing his orgasm to rush through him. A moment later, he feels Cas pull out, stroking his cock and coming onto the ground between Dean’s legs. 

He turns Dean around, grabbing his chin between his fingers. “We are gonna fight. And we’re gonna do it  _ our _ way. You started a fire, Dean. And I have every intention of seeing it through.” 

Dean kisses his mate, letting out a little whimper when their tongues caress each other. “It’s about time the Capitol burns.” 

They gently wipe each other’s cheeks, cleaning the evidence of their tears before making their way back into town. A coldness settles in Dean’s bones. He takes a moment to silently say goodbye to this town, to his home. One way or another, he probably won’t be seeing it again. 

They try to sleep, they really do. But darkness invades their thoughts. They lay awake, their hands clutching each other. Dean knows if he tries to sleep he’ll only wake to nightmares. So he lays there, listening to Cas’ breathing, taking in his calming scent. He’s gonna miss this. He’s gonna miss his nest and their home. He’s gonna miss falling asleep in Cas’ arms. He’s gonna miss that delicious fresh baked bread scent. 

As the sun slowly rises, Dean’s stomach twists and turns. His hands shake as he grips the front of Cas’ shirt, his nose buried under Cas’ chin. “It’s time,” Cas whispers, breaking their little bubble. 

Dean nods before sucking in one more sharp breath, forcing himself to remember Cas’ scent. They quickly dress, getting themselves ready. They cling to each other until there’s a knock on the door. Dean gives Cas one more kiss, touching his cheek, and whispering ‘I love you’ before the Peacekeepers are escorting them to the town square. 

Bobby gives them each a nod as they walk through the crowded square, everyone in the town is required to be there and watch. As they get up on the stage, Gabriel gives them each a heartbroken look. Gabriel is their Capitol assigned escort. He’s from the Capitol, dressed in an obnoxious outfit that the Capitol calls style. This year he’s got large golden wings attached to his back. It’s absolutely ridiculous but for a brief moment, Dean can’t help but think fondly about their escort, like you would a child, or a small pet. 

Gabriel steps up to the microphone. Usually, he would greet everyone with over the top gestures and an excited voice. This year, Gabriel sounds resigned. Apparently, this year is hard on everyone. People have come to love their Victors and seeing them going back into the Arena makes them anxious. Finally, the Capitol is getting the tiniest taste of what the Districts feel every fucking year. 

“Welcome. Welcome,” Gabriel says into the mic, trying to give everyone a smile that Dean can see right through. Dean’s eyes flick away from Gabriel to where Bobby and Cas sit. He can’t pull his eyes away as Gabriel continues. “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” His voice sounds flat and borderline on the verge of breaking at any moment. It’s making it so much harder for Dean to keep his hard and composed mask. “As always, omegas first.”

Gabriel steps over to the giant bowl containing a single slip of paper. He reaches in to fish it out before walking back to the mic. He makes a show of opening the paper before calling out, “Dean Winchester.” Dean stands from his seat and walks over to the middle of the platform, Gabriel’s hand touching his back. 

“And now, for the alphas.”

Gabriel does the same with the opposite bowl, pulling a slip. Dean has a moment of hope. There’s a chance Cas stays safe. Please let the odds be in his favor. Just this once. 

That hope is shattered a moment later. “Bobby Singer,” Gabriel reads, breathing a sigh of relief. His face absolutely shatters when Cas stands up. 

“I volunteer!”

“Boy,” Bobby says, grabbing Cas’ shoulder. “Don’t do this, ya idgit.”

“It’s too late. It’s done.”

Cas steps up to Gabriel’s otherside. Gabriel’s voice shakes as he announces. “Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, your Tributes from District Twelve.”

The crowd around them stays completely silent before they all press their three fingers to their mouths then lifting their arms up in the air, giving their silent goodbyes. Dean and Cas do the same. Their own silent rebellion. Refusing to celebrate the Games. 

Peacekeepers grab them, shoving them back and towards the train. “Wait,” Dean says desperately, finding Sammy’s eyes in the crowd. “Wait! We get to say goodbye!”

“Not this time,” the Peacekeeper says keeping them moving and shoving him into the train. As the doors slide close, so do Dean’s eyes. This is it. This is the beginning of the end. 


	2. Chapter 2

“This way,” one of the Capitol people says, grabbing Dean and Castiel by their arms, pulling them along inside the train. Castiel keeps himself from growling as he’s manhandled. The man, dressed in odd, purple clothing pulls them into a room, the door automatically closing behind them. “Time for your injection.”

Castiel pushes his arm out, knowing what’s coming, already experiencing it before during his last Games. Last time he was scared, cowering away. This time he knows what to expect. 

The Capitol person moves to the side, someone wearing pristine white stepping up and taking Castiel’s arm. They take a syringe, carefully injecting Castiel with hormones that will counteract his natural alpha hormones. Within moments, he already senses his scent going missing. It messes with his head. 

They do the same to Dean and Castiel sucks in sharp breaths, taking in Dean’s scent one last time before it fades completely. No longer smelling like himself, no longer smelling mated. He hates it. 

The Capitol man nods. “You’re free to go.”

With their hands intertwined, they walk through the train towards the dining area. Dean nuzzles at Castiel’s collar, no doubt taking in the traces of it left on his clothes. They find Gabriel and Bobby already sat at the table talking. 

“All I’m saying,” Gabriel says, waving his arms around with flair. “Is that it would be great to get you and Castiel something.”

“Get us what?” Castiel asks, sitting down and pulling Dean into his lap. 

“Well, Dean has his mockingjay pin. And I,” Gabriel says, waving at his wings, “have my golden wings. I think you and Bobby should have something golden as well. Show them that we’re a team. That we won’t just take this sitting down,” he says, ironically flopping down into his chair with a huff. 

Dean shakes his head but Castiel sees the way he smiles, the fondness in his eyes. Dean’s always looked at Gabriel like a lost animal, a pet of sorts. Dean reaches over, patting Gabriel’s hand. “Thank you. I think that’s a great plan.”

Gabriel brightens up at being acknowledged. He straightens up in his seat as Bobby sighs, taking another drink from the glass he’s holding. Castiel’s stomach growls as some of the staff walk over, placing food in front of them. One of the only good things about being a Tribute is the food. 

“I’ve missed this lamb and rice,” Dean says through a moan as he shoves his mouth full. 

“This year will be different than your previous Games,” Gabriel explains, sipping daintily at his wine. “This is a Quarter Quell. President Shurley would have spared no expense, making this the most lavish Games yet.”

“Fantastic,” Dean says sarcastically under his breath. 

“New training facility, new housing quarters, bigger chariots, and of course, a brand new Arena. Your stylist will have their work cut out for them to top all the hustle and bustle but I have all the faith in the world that Balthazar will knock your costumes out of the park.”

~~~

After arriving at the Capitol, they’re hustled off to get made over. For Castiel, that includes a full shave, which admittedly won’t last very long with how fast his facial hair grows. They trim his hair, file his nails, and buff his entire body. Once done, they escort him off to a waiting room where he finds Dean, a white robe around his body. 

“God damn it,” Dean hisses, touching his face. “They used that cream that makes my hair stop growing. No facial hair in the Arena for us delicate omegas.”

Castiel can’t help but smile, listening to his omega bitch and moan about something so trivial as his facial hair. It feels  _ normal _ and he holds on to that feeling.

After they’ve met with Balthazar, who definitely has given them a leg up with their costumes, Castiel heads down to the opening ceremony. There are Tributes bunched up together, talking and laughing. Unease rolls through Castiel’s stomach. They all know each other, have instant alliances where he and Dean are the youngest, making them the outsiders. 

Castiel walks over to the black horses designated for District Twelve. He gently pets one of them. 

“Sugar cube?”

Castiel turns, finding Benny Lafitte looking at him with a raised brow. “Um, no thank you?”

Benny shrugs. “They’re supposed to be for the horses but who cares about them, right? They’ve got years to enjoy sugar. Whereas you and I. Well. If we see something sweet, we better grab it.” With his eyes never leaving Castiel’s, Benny pops another sugar cube into his mouth. 

Castiel runs his hands over his outfit, a tight, plain black bodysuit. Benny is dressed in a brown skirt, his chest bare except for a fishing net which hangs  _ artfully _ from his broad body. 

“You look terrifying,” Benny says under his breath, taking in Castiel’s dramatic makeup covered face. Then he smiles. “Ya know, brother, it’s a shame about this whole thing. Now you,” he says, pointing at Castiel. “Could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money,  _ anything _ you wanted.”

“Well I don’t really like jewels, and I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.” He tilts his head. “Why? What did you do with all your money?”

“I haven’t dealt with anything as common as money in  _ years _ ,” Benny answers, wrinkling his nose. 

“Then how do people pay you for the pleasure of your company?”

Benny looks at him for a long moment before he smiles, leaning in to softly answer. “With secrets.” His voice takes on a different note, something softer and more intimate. “What about you, Castiel? Do you have any secrets for me?”

Castiel takes a deliberate step back. “I think most people know my secrets before I even do,” he says with a shrug, going back to petting the horses. 

“Unfortunately for me, I think that’s actually true.” Benny pops another sugar cube into his mouth, stepping away. He nods as Dean steps up, “Dean,” before he’s walking away, going to his designated chariot. 

“What was  _ that _ about?”

Castiel shakes his head. “Benny wanted to know all my secrets.”

Dean smiles. “He’ll have to get in line.”

“Alright, gentleman,” Balthazar says, stepping up to them, making last minute adjustments to their costumes. They both look plain black right now. They both have flowing capes, both sleeveless, both having dramatic black makeup. Balthazar picks up two black crowns, laying them onto their brows. “As soon as you’re ready, hit this button,” he tells them, handing Dean a small button. 

“Thank you,” Dean says, making Balthazar smile. 

“Anything for my omega on fire.” Balthazar isn’t like the other stylists who have mutated and distorted their appearance to make themselves bigger and better. He always wears simple clothes, simple eyeliner. He lets his work speak for itself, and it’s always dazzling. “When you’re out there, don’t smile, don’t wave. Keep your chins up like you’re above all of this.”

“Easy enough. I won’t even have to act,” Dean says, winking at Balthazar. Balthazar shakes his head, smiling fondly at them before stepping away. Moments later, the chariots begin to move. 

**Sam**

Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t hate every second of this. He’s planted on his couch, his mother at his side as their eyes stay glued to the screen, watching and waiting. 

“Good evening,” Dick Roman greets with a wide smile. He’s the official host of the Hunger Games every year. The very first Games that Sam can remember, Dick had dyed his hair bright red, his eyebrows and lips matching, making him look like he was covered in blood. Sam shudders just remembering. This year, his hair, brows, and lips are forest green. “And welcome to the 75th Hunger Games!”

The picture pulls out, showing off the man beside Dick this year. “And with me, we have Arthur Ketch, our Head Gamemaker. Welcome, Arthur.”

“Thank you for having me, Dick.”

They banter, discussing this year’s Game compared to years in the past. Sam tunes them out, biting the side of his thumb as he waits for the opening ceremony to begin. 

“It’s happening,” his mom says, nudging him with her elbow. 

Sam watches on the screen as music begins to play, a low bass filled with drums, making his stomach quiver. But not in excitement. He hates this. Everything about it is  _ sick _ . 

“And here they come!” Dick exclaims, all so fucking excited. “District One to start it all off. This year we had a couple of volunteers from District One.”

“Which isn’t surprising,” Sam says, watching as Max and Alicia are shown on the screen, smiling and waving. “Careers through and through.”

“A pair of twins who have  _ both  _ won their Games before they turned 18,” Arthur explains. “They’re the Capitol’s darlings.”

“Next up we have District Two,” Dick says with a wide smile. “These two are a deadly pair, if I don’t say so myself.”

“Oh yes,” Arthur says. “Alastair is an alpha we’ll never forget.”

Sam winces as he takes out his notebook, reading the notes he has for Alastair. The alpha went nuts inside the Arena, going full psycho, torturing people instead of killing them. They tried to send in a pack of mutations to take him out, but he still survived and won his Games. He’s admittedly not the most popular in the Capitol.

“And then we have Abaddon,” Arthur says as the camera zooms in on Abaddon’s face. The omega is beautiful, if it wasn’t for her deadly grin. She won her Games by tearing someone’s throat out with her teeth. Afterwards, she’d gotten them shaved down to sharp spikes. “Talk about dedication,” he says with a laugh that makes Sam grit his teeth. 

“District Three is up next with Crowley and Ash. Or should we say, the brains,” Dick announces with a delighted laugh. “Both of these men have made great inventions we all love in the Capitol.” 

Crowley won his Games without ever shedding a drop of blood. He’d taken wire and used it to electrocute the others in the Arena. People complained about that year not being bloody enough. 

“And here comes the lovely pair from District Four!”

“Benny and Jody are both beloved by the Capitol. Absolute heartbreaker, that Benny,” Arthur says with a carefree laugh, tipping his head back to laugh. 

The opening ceremonies go on and on, each pair of Tributes coming out and displaying their District themed costumes. The costumes look awful on children but now? On older, withering Tributes, it looks ridiculous, and Sam can’t help but wince. 

Sam takes notes on everyone, hoping Bobby is doing the same. He notices a theme. Every single Tribute this year has pissed off the President in some way. Alastair was too brutal, Crowley wasn’t brutal enough. The Tributes from District Six both used camouflage in their Games, hiding away while everyone else killed each other. Now they’re hooked on morphline, a drug that makes them look hollowed out, but Sam wouldn’t count them out, remembering their skills from their Games. Claire, from District Seven pretended to be soft and weak before turning out to be a skilled killer once her Games began. Eileen, from District Eleven was injured in her Games but refused to get reconstructive surgery once she was out, and now the President sneers at the fact that she’s deaf. Every single person going into that Arena has been a red mark on the President’s book. And now he has a way to put them all out, once and for all. 

“Here they come,” his mom says beside him, pulling him out of his musings. 

Sam holds his breath as Dean and Castiel show up on the screen. They’re holding hands— just another small rebellion. Their heads are high, ignoring all the commotion around them. They look fierce, like true warriors and a tiny glimmer of hope flickers in Sam’s chest. Just maybe they’ll make their way back home. At the very least, maybe they’ll inspire others. There’s been rumbling through the District of rebellion, of fighting back. 

“And here we have a crowd favorite,” Dick says excitedly. 

“You know I can’t pick favorites,” Arthur teases. 

“Fine. But I can!” Dick answers with a laugh. “A mated pair going into the Arena together. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

The camera zooms in on Castiel and Dean. Sam sucks in a sharp breath as their suits seem to explode with light before shimmering. 

“Oh my god!” Dick exclaims in excitement. “Look at them! They look just like coal!”

“Which is what District Twelve is known for,” Arthur says, his eyes never leaving Dean and Castiel, just like everyone else. 

“They’re beautiful,” Mary murmurs, her voice coming out shakey. 

“Yeah,” Sam says quietly, watching as Dean stares up at President Shurley, determination setting his jaw. Their costumes are so much more than beautiful. They’re a symbol to everyone watching. Every single person is required to watch this, and right now, they’re seeing Dean bathed in embers. Dean set a spark ablaze. And now, they’re all seeing that spark catch, burning brightly. It fills Sam with determination and he can only hope it does the same for every other District as well. “They are.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s heart pounds against his ribs, his hands shaking where he’s gripping his bow. His eyes dart every which way, trying to find where Charlie’s screams are coming from. 

“Dean!” she cries and it’s clear that she’s in distress, in the process of fighting for her life. 

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to get his head straight. He needs to calm down, think rationally. The trees around him slowly grow darker, the bark weeping their brightness until everything is grey and black. 

“Dean! Please!”

“Charlie!” Dean shouts back, trying to get the other Tributes to leave Charlie alone and come for him instead. “Charlie! I’m coming!”

Dean’s feet are moving before he can even think to do so. He chases after Charlie’s screams in the hopes of finding her. Maybe this time he’ll be able to save her. Maybe this time will be different. 

Except it’s not. He rushes through some bushes and finds her there. Just like he always does. The spear is sticking out of her stomach, her shirt slowly becoming soaked with her blood. A stray tear falls down her cheek as she finally looks up, their eyes meeting. 

Dean feels so cold as he watches his only ally in the Arena fall to her knees. That’s when Dean sees the Tribute who killed Charlie. Without a second thought, he lets an arrow fly, watching as it sinks into the boy’s throat. He rushes to Charlie’s side, helping her into his lap. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “It’s okay.”

Charlie’s hand comes up to his face, still hot with her blood. “You have to win, Dean. Promise me.”

He stares down at her, his throat closing up. “I promise,” he whispers. He promised Sammy. He promised Charlie. And now he promises Cas.

He holds Charlie in his arms even as he hears rustling around him. When he looks up, there’s seven Tributes standing in front of him. All of their eyes are solid black as they stare at him. When he looks down, Charlie is gone. 

The first steps up and he’s got an arrow sticking out of his throat. This was Dean’s first kill in the Arena. That kill was to avenge his ally. After Charlie died, Dean snapped. Nothing was coming between him and victory. He was ruthless, unwilling to let any of the final Careers win. He  _ promised _ . 

The next to step forward was his second kill. There’s a red line across her throat where he’d slit it and he watches in horror as it begins to bleed, dripping down her front. 

“No,” he says, his hands beginning to shake. “No! You’re all dead!”

“Because of you!” the next Tribute says, stepping closer. This one has two arrows in her belly. 

Dean points at her. “You tried to cut my lips off!”

Another Tribute gets into his space and Dean steps back. He trips on a root, falling on his ass. He scurries back but they’re all faster, crowding forward, getting into his face. “Get away! Get away from me!”

Terror floods Dean before a familiar voice is calling his name. It’s a voice that reminds him of being safe and he clings to it. 

“Dean. Hey, Dean. It’s okay. It’s me, it’s Cas. It was just a nightmare.”

Dean opens his eyes, finding himself in a dark room, his mate by his side. He takes a deep breath, growling in frustration when he doesn’t find Cas’ scent. “Fucking hormones,” he grits out before wrapping his arms around Cas. 

It takes awhile but eventually his heart calms down, his hands stop shaking. Cas continues to stroke up and down his spine, whispering words of reassurance. Eventually, Bobby comes and knocks on their door. With a reluctant sigh, Dean gets up and gets ready for the day. Day one of training. 

~~~

“Do we really have to listen to Bobby?” Dean asks, not hiding the whine in his voice. 

Cas looks over, giving him a small smile. “Yes. He  _ is _ our mentor after all. And it’ll be good, I think. We can’t go wrong with having extra people watching our backs.”

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. “I’ve never had luck with having allies in the Arena, Cas.”

Cas nods in understanding, taking Dean’s hand in his own. Bobby might have a point though. Everyone knows each other, alliances are already forming. Dean and Cas are the odd men out at the moment and they need to take this opportunity to change that. 

As the elevator doors open, they step out into the training area. There’s only a handful of people present, one of whom is throwing up on the floor, looking miserable. 

“Well,” Dean whispers under his breath, “no one’s really jumping out at me.”

“Yet,” Cas says, giving Dean a meaningful look. 

“Divide and conquer?”

“Yeah. Good luck.”

Dean wanders around the training area. There’s Capitol people there to help explain weapons and different survival skills. The last time Dean was here, he’d kept himself clear from anything that would show off how much he already knew, wanted to keep his assets a secret. Instead, he’d learned some new tricks and new weapons. 

This time around, he doesn’t have to hide. He’s positive everyone here has watched his Games, seen the way he knows how to wield a knife and shoot a bow. Dean wanders until finding Ash and Crowley, the Tributes from District Three. Dean knows them both to be crazy smart. 

He watches for a moment as they attempt to light a fire. Unsuccessfully. “Friction generates heat. Heat generates fire,” Crowley murmurs to himself. 

“Hey,” he says gently, kneeling down between them. “You have to move your hands down the stick, and move your hands faster in order to create a spark.”

Crowley looks over at Ash and they have a silent conversation together before Crowley nods. He does as Dean told him, moving his hands faster and slowly sliding it down the stick until there’s smoke coming from the end. 

“There you go,” Dean says, giving them both a smile. 

“Thank you, Dean.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Dean says, pushing the praise away. 

Ash looks over where Max and Alicia are training, both throwing knives at a simulator. They work in sync, like a dance they’ve practiced over and over. When Max runs out of knives, Alicia is there, tossing one to him before throwing one herself. Their last knives soar through the air, hitting the moving target right in the heart. 

Ash lets out a sigh, rubbing his face. “I’m not built for this,” he mutters to himself. “I’m a man of science. Of intelligence. It’s a miracle I got out the first time.”

Dean’s heart beats unpleasantly at the reminder, hating that they’re even in this situation. He looks over towards Abbadon, watching as she fights with a Capitol trainer. She hits him low, growling and showing off her sharpened teeth. Then he looks over at Alastair, who throws a spear, hitting two targets at once. 

Everyone around them is a certified killer, preparing themselves to kill again. His stomach sours thinking about the older tributes or the ones like Ash and Crowley who just aren’t built to fight. Thankfully, he’s pulled from his thoughts by Crowley. 

“See that?” he asks, nodding up towards the Gamemakers. They all stand around, drinking and eating, watching the tributes. 

“Arthur Ketch? He’s the newest Head Gamemaker,” Dean says. 

“No,” Crowley says, shaking his head. “Just there. In the corner.”

Dean squints as he looks, sucking in a sharp breath as he sees a ripple. He turns back to Ash and Crowley. “What is that?”

“A ripple.” Crowley looks at him, giving him a deep look. “There is  _ always _ a flaw in the system.”

“Forcefield,” Ash explains. “Keeping them separated from us.”

“Ah,” Dean says. “That’s probably my fault. The year I was here I shot an arrow at them.”

Ash smiles wide, fist-bumping Dean. “Right on, man.”

After making sure both Crowley and Ash knew how to make a proper fire, Dean stands up, beginning his wandering once more. For a brief moment, he thinks about joining Benny over at the edible plants table, but decides against it, finding Jody instead. 

Dean watches her a moment, amazed at how quickly she makes a fishing hook. She weaves random material together into an artificial lure. Depending on what sort of Arena they’re dropping into, this sort of thing could be useful. He steps up, gently clearing his throat so he doesn’t startle her. 

“What you did,” Dean says softly, quiet enough for just the two of them to hear, “for Andrea, was really brave.”

Jody finally looks up from her fishing hook, giving Dean a small smile. She shakes her head before touching Dean’s chest, pointing at him. He’d heard stories about Jody losing her voice but this confirms it. Somehow, he knows exactly what she means.  _ You’re brave for volunteering for your brother _ . 

“Sammy’s my little brother. It’s my job to protect him.” He clears his throat, nodding to the hook. “If you teach me how to make a proper fishing hook, I’ll teach you to use a bow.” Jody nods, her face breaking out into a wide smile. 

Dean’s not sure how long they sit and make hooks but eventually, Jody is pushing him away, forcing him over to the archery area. He goes along with a smile. When he offers her a quiver, she shoves it away, telling him without words that she wants to see him do it. 

Dean puts the quiver onto his back, picking up a bow. The familiar weight settles something inside of him, letting him breathe easier than he has since coming here. For a split second, he looks up into the watch nest, debating the merits of sending an arrow into the forcefield, just to send a message, but he decides against it. 

Stepping up to the simulator, he pushes a few buttons, getting the intensity to a setting that will push him, make it a challenge. 

“Alright,” he whispers to himself, picking the first arrow out of his quiver. He steps into the middle of the simulator, anticipation rippling just under his skin. “Bring it on.”

Dean loses himself in the familiar motion. He lets instinct take over. Enemy on his left. Arrow flying. Pulling a new arrow. Ducking an attack. Sending another arrow flying. Over and over and over. His breathing picks up and his heart beats in a steady thump. Dean feels at home as sweat begins to drip from his brow, his arms growing tired from the constant push and pull of his bow. Before he knows it, the simulation is over and he’d taken care of every enemy that came his way. 

He turns around to gauge Jody’s reaction only to freeze as every single person who was training stands in the window watching him. Jody claps her hands, a wide smile on her face. Cas stands beside her, a proud smile on his lips. He gives Dean a nod when their eyes meet. Benny, Abbadon, Alastair, the twins, and Claire all give him looks, showing how impressed they are with his skill. Instead of feeling pride, Dean just shakes it all off. He tosses his bow and quiver back on the station before walking away, feeling like his skin is crawling as their eyes all follow him. 

~~~

Dean falls back on the couch with a huff. After training, each Tribute is allowed ten minutes to show the Gamemakers their skills. The Gamemakers then give each Tribute a score based on their skill. It’s just another thing for people to bet on and to gauge how this year will go. Jody told Dean she was planning on taking a nap while the morphlings from District Six said they were planning on playing with the paint the whole time. 

They all had to wait their turn in a little room, each called in order of which District they’re in. Dean had met some of the other Tributes during that time. Claire, one of the younger Tributes but no less fierce. Donna, who just wanted to get home to her alpha. Eileen, who was deaf, refusing the surgery to get her ears repaired after her own Games. 

The more Dean learned about everyone, the more unease he felt. How the fuck was he supposed to kill these people?

“So,” Bobby says, walking into the sitting room. “I’m not sure what you did, but over half of the Tributes want you for their ally.”

Cas walks in, giving Dean a wide smile that makes his belly fill with warmth. “They saw him shoot. Hell,  _ I _ saw him shoot for the first time. It was incredible.”

“So you have your pick,” Bobby tells him. 

Dean bites his bottom lip. “I want Ash and Crowley.”

“Claire calls them Nuts and Bolts,” Cas says, tilting his head to the side. It’s endearing. 

“And maybe Jody. And Eileen.”

Bobby takes a sip of his drink, letting out a long sigh. “I’ll tell them you’re still thinking about it.”

Dean lays his head against the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t even matter, Bobby. After they see my training score they’re not gonna wanna be my ally anymore.”

Bobby narrows his eyes. “What did you do, ya idjit?”

“In all fairness, I’ll probably be getting the same low score as Dean,” Cas says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dean sits up, looking up at his mate. “What did you do?”

“I might have been extra inspired. I drew a picture for them on the ground.”

“They’d pulled a mat over it by the time it was my turn. I didn’t see it.”

Cas’ eyes grow soft as he explains. “I drew a picture of Charlie. How she looked with the flowers in her hair.” He shakes his head. “I was just so angry. I wanted them to see what these Games  _ do _ , hold them accountable somehow.”

Dean looks away, swallowing and clearing his throat. “I wish I’d seen it,” he whispers. 

“And you?” Bobby asks.

Dean feels his lips part in a smile as he remembers the scream of distress he’d heard from a few of the Gamemakers watching. “I also sent a message,” he says with a shrug. 

Cas lets out a laugh, sitting down on the couch beside him and putting his arm around Dean’s shoulder. “And what message was that?”

Dean nuzzles against the side of Cas’ face before telling his story. “They were all watching with rapt attention. So I gave them something to entertain them.” He shakes his head. “I grabbed a few pieces of rope, using them to make little people. One for me. One for Cas. One for President Shurley. And one for Arthur Ketch. Then I went over to the fire starting station. I made as big of a fire as I could in the space before tossing all four of us into the fire.” 

Bobby lets out a strangled noise before asking, “then what?”

“Then I bowed and said ‘if we burn, you burn too’ before walking out.”

“Would it be wrong of me to tell you how attractive I find you in this moment?” Cas asks, forcing a surprised snort from Dean. 

“You two are hopeless,” Bobby says, waving over someone to top off his glass. 

That night they all sit and watch the TV as Dick Roman announces their training scores. When it gets to Cas, they all hold their breath. Of all the things Dean is expecting, a perfect twelve wasn’t it. 

“And finally, from District Twelve, Dean Winchester,” Dick says, picking up a piece of paper, his face morphing to shock. “Another perfect twelve.”

“What the fuck?” Dean hisses out. “Why the fuck would they do that?”

Bobby sighs, shaking his head. “It’s to guarantee a target on your head.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Alright, darling,” Balthazar says, straightening the front of Castiel’s suit. “You look very sharp.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says with a little nod, turning to look over at Dean. He’s never seen Dean in a suit like this. His breath stutters, taking his mate in. They’re in matching white suits, fit for a pair of grooms. President Shurley’s request, or rather, demand. 

Claire, the Tribute from District Seven walks by, pausing to stare at them. “Oh my god,” she murmurs, a cruel smile on her lips. “Are you serious? Nice outfits.”

Dean lets out a little growl, straightening his back. “A final gift from President Shurley,” he says in explanation. 

Castiel watches as her entire demeanor changes. She smiles and it’s all teeth, making him shiver. Claire takes a step closer to Dean before whispering, “make that bastard pay for it.” And then she’s turning towards the stage, her name being called for her interview slot. 

Every year, all of the Tributes are required to participate in a live interview with Dick Roman. Usually, everyone has some sort of strategy, some sort of angle they’re trying to play in order to get the people who will end up being sponsors to like them. The year that Dean was here, he didn’t even have to try. He’d already volunteered to take his brother’s place. What’s more likable than that? 

“Do you know what you’re going to talk about?” Balthazar asks, looking between them. 

Castiel gives a small nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

Dean shrugs. “I have no idea. I’ll just wing it again and hope Dick gives me some questions to work with like my first Games.”

Balthazar gives a small smile. “I’ve got something special for you, darling. Wait until the end, and give the crowd a little twirl to show off your wedding suit.”

“Alright,” he says finally, giving Balthazar a shrug. By this point, they’ve grown to trust the stylist. 

All three of them turn back to the monitor, watching as each Tribute does their interview. The twins from District One tell a sob story about how they’ve come to love the Capitol, how much they’re going to miss them all when they’re gone. Crowley asks about the legitimacy of these Games, how these rules can’t possibly be right on an intellectual level. Claire? Well, Claire takes her few minutes to scream profanities at the camera, cursing them for making her go back into the Games after promising her she’d never have to go back. 

Every single person works their own angle. And every single person makes the crowd more anxious, more uneasy. They’re murmuring their outrage and fear at losing their  _ precious _ favorites. Castiel can’t help but shake his head at them. 

“You’re up,” Balthazar gently says, pushing Dean forward. Dean takes Castiel’s hand, giving him a squeeze before stepping out on stage. Balthazar leaves to sit in his designated seat. 

Castiel bites at his thumb, nerves thrumming just under his skin as he watches Dean cross the stage, hugging Dick Roman in greeting. He’s thankful Dick is such a good interviewer, helping put Dean at ease, throwing him easy questions. All in all, Dean’s interview is  _ fine _ . Normally, he wouldn’t stand out as a Tribute. Dick asks him how he got a perfect twelve during the training session but Dean jokes that he would tell Dick, but then he’d have to kill him. In Castiel’s eyes, Dean is charming, yet forgettable. 

That is, until Dean offers to show off his groom’s outfit. Dick steps back, giving Dean the stage and Dean steps up to the front before  _ twirling _ . Castiel sucks in a sharp breath as Dean’s suit bursts into flames. Starting from the hems of his pants, slowly sliding higher and higher until the entire thing is burning away, leaving a black suit underneath. 

“Oh,” Dick says, staring in awe at Dean, and Castiel understands the sentiment. His mate is  _ beautifully fierce _ . “You’re like?”

Dean looks over, giving Dick a smile before lifting his arms up, stretching them out on either side of his body, two large black wings popping out from his back. “I’m a mockingjay.”

Dick freezes and Castiel wonders if it’s fear he’s seeing on Dick’s face. He waves a hand at Dean. “So you are.” Then he gestures towards the crowd. “Balthazar, stand up! Let’s give it up to the talented Balthazar who did this beautiful outfit!”

Balthazar stands, waving for the crowd and the camera and Castiel is suddenly gripped with fear for his friend. But Balthazar knows exactly what he’s doing, what he’s risking. Because now everyone in the Capitol and the Districts have seen it. Dean, his wings poised for flight as their beloved Mockingjay, their symbol of hope and rebellion. 

The buzzer sounds, signaling Dean’s time being over. He gives a final bow before stepping towards the back of the stage. He stands with his head raised and proud next to the Alpha from District Eleven. 

Castiel hears his name called and he steps forward up onto the stage. He greets Dick kindly, shaking his hand. “So Castiel,” Dick says, leaning close like they’re old friends, like they’re pals. It makes him grit his teeth. He might be a soft alpha by societal standards but he is not weak, and being so close to someone who’s so  _ involved _ with the Games makes him angry. For once, he’s thankful for the hormones making him scentless. “Let’s talk about this beautiful outfit.”

Castiel keeps himself calm. “Yes. Balthazar made these beautiful groom’s outfits for us. Letting us experience how the Capitol celebrates mates.” He nods his head, listening as the crowd oh’s and aww’s. “But even though we won’t be celebrating as the Capitol does, we did mate properly back home before this all started.” Castiel ducks his head, smiling shyly at the ground. “We wanted our love to be eternal.”

“That’s wonderful, Castiel.”

“Dean and I, we’re luckier than most. And if I’m honest, I wouldn’t have any regrets at all, if it wasn’t for--” he cuts himself off, his voice breaking. 

Dick leans in closer, murmuring into the mic. “If it wasn’t for what, Castiel?”

Then Castiel drops the biggest bomb imaginable on everyone. “If it wasn’t for the baby.”

There’s silence for a moment before the entire crowd is erupting in ear shattering noise. There’s screams of outrage, curses, shouts. Everyone is standing and calling for the Games to come to an end, that this is inhumane, unfair. Dick tries to quiet the crowd but they’re too upset. The time dings and Castiel moves away towards his place by Dean’s side. Dean takes his hand, squeezing it and Castiel is surprised to find his eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

He watches as Dean takes the hand of the alpha from District Eleven. Then they take the hand next to them. So on and so forth until everyone is linking hands, showing a united front. Every Tribute lifts their hands and Castiel can see in the monitor that it’s been seen. The cameras try to go black but it’s too late. 

Castiel sends up a silent prayer to anyone that will listen that the rebels have  _ seen _ . That they find strength in Dean’s mockingjay, find courage in the sight of their Victors standing together. Before anything more can happen, the room is plunged into darkness and they’re all ushered back to their floors. 

~~~

Castiel allows the Capitol attendant to lead them to their floor, not leaving their side until they’re shoved into their room. The door shuts behind them and Castiel swears he hears it lock.

“Capitol hospitality,” Dean murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“So,” Castiel says, stepping over to the window in their room, looking down at the street. “Do I have anything I need to apologize for?”

Dean steps up beside him, shaking his head. “Not a damn thing.”

They stand side by side, staring down at the scene below them. There’s crowds of Capitol people protesting. Castiel never thought he’d see anything like it. They’re screaming and crying, cursing the President for what he’s done, how he’s ruined their Games. 

He shakes his head, turning away. “You know they won’t cancel it, right?”

Dean sighs. “I know. We’re still going in tomorrow.”

Castiel takes Dean into his arms, kissing the side of his head before slowly unbuttoning his suit. “Let’s not waste tonight.”

Dean gets on board, helping Castiel out of his clothes. They take their time, savoring each new patch of revealed skin. Once they’re both completely bare, Castiel guides them to the large bed, gently pressing Dean down and crawling on top of him. 

Dean tilts his head back and Castiel is drawn to the skin of his throat. He runs his nose over it out of habit, his stomach sinking as he finds no scent there. “I hate these fucking hormones,” he murmurs. “Miss your scent. Miss being able to smell you, smell  _ like _ you.”

Dean shakes his head. “Me too. But it doesn’t matter. I’m still yours.”

Castiel peppers kisses against the underside of his mate’s throat, reveling in the way Dean begins to squirm underneath him, his hips riding up to rub their fronts together. He works on leaving a sizeable mark, he wants to leave a claim on Dean that everyone will be able to see. “Mine,” he grits out. 

Dean pulls his head back, lifting up enough to take Castiel’s lips in a kiss. It’s fierce in emotion, making Castiel’s stomach clench, his emotions running haywire. His eyes prickle and he knows they’re shining with alpha red as he’s unable to control himself. 

“Dean,” he breathes out, his emotions making his voice crack. 

“Hey,” Dean says, taking his face between his palms. “You’re okay. You’re right here with me. Stay with me.”

“Always, Dean.”

Dean turns over beneath him and Castiel lays himself across Dean’s back, his chest rumbling in approval at feeling all of his omega beneath him. Their skin touches from chest to toe. His lips kiss a gentle pattern over Dean’s shoulders, loving the muscles he finds there. He moves lower, licking down Dean’s spine. 

Dean lets out a noise of pleasure when Castiel kisses each of his back dimples right above his ass. He gets his knees under himself, lifting up and presenting for Castiel and it takes the breath right from his lungs. “So beautiful for me, omega.”

Dean looks over his shoulder, his lips bitten red, his eyes shining with omega gold. “Please, alpha.”

Castiel grips Dean’s hips before diving in and eating him out, taking his time to work Dean open, to  _ savor _ the taste of him. For all he knows, this will be the very last time and he’s not willing to waste it. Dean makes the prettiest noises, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hard and aching. Castiel fingers him, making sure he’s open and stretched, ready. 

“Please, Cas. Come on, already.”

Castiel smirks before nipping at Dean’s asscheek, both of them letting out laughs. Dean turns over to his back again, opening his thighs for Castiel. The sight makes his heart speed up, his breath stutter. His omega is  _ beautiful _ . Dean is fierce and independent and truly  _ deadly _ , yet he allows Castiel to see this gentle side of him. Castiel is honored. 

Taking his cock in hand, Castiel guides it to Dean’s hole, pushing in smoothly and bottoming out in one motion. He falls to his forearms, getting nose to nose with his mate. “I love you,” he says before pulling his hips back, sliding back home and making Dean gasp. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gets out, his hands scrambling for purchase on Castiel’s back, his nails digging in. “I love you, too. Love you so much.”

Castiel’s hips pick up speed as their instincts take over, both of them chasing their pleasure. They exchange nips and bites and kisses. Dean’s nails run paths down his back, making Castiel hiss, but the sensation only adds to his pleasure, his body feeling like it’s going into overdrive. 

“Please, Cas,” Dean gasps out. “Please. Need it.”

Castiel feels his heart in his throat and he slows his hips. “What do you need? I’ll give you anything.”

Dean bites his bottom lip for a moment before blurting out. “Need your knot.” He looks away, his eyes shining, his cheeks blushing. “If we don’t make it. I-- fuck, Cas. I wanna feel it once. Please.”

Castiel could never deny his omega anything, not even this. So he nods his head before slamming his hips forward. It doesn’t take long before his knot inflates, tugging on Dean’s rim. “Are you sure?”

“Fuck,” Dean moans, tilting his head back. “Yes. Fucking yes, Cas. Give it to me.”

Castiel plunges in and his knot pops, locking them together as he comes, for the first time with his knot inside of Dean. It feels so good as pleasure washes over him, feeling the snug, wet walls of his omega pulse around him, squeezing his knot. 

Dean cries out as his cock spurts between them, coming as well. Castiel memorizes his face, the way he looks as he comes. He memorizes the way Dean bites his lips afterwards, his lids drooping and relaxed. He’s beautiful. Castiel forces his eyes to stay open, to commit this in his mind, to keep it close to his heart. Just in case. 

“You know I want my cuddles after sex,” Dean murmurs, opening his arms for Castiel to fall into, which he gladly does. 

They hold each other, reveling in the aftershocks of sex, loving each other. They trade soft kisses, tender caresses without saying a single word. They sleep on and off until finally, the sun rises. 

In the morning, there’s a knock on the door, signaling that it’s time. 


	5. Chapter 5

Dean turns his back to Balthazar, letting his stylist zip his suit up. A long breath rushes out of him once it’s in place. He thinks back to this morning, saying goodbye to Gabriel and Bobby. They’d all hugged, Gabriel crying as he told them what an honor it was to be their escort. Then he’d given Bobby his golden bracelet that looks like flames, Cas his gold necklace, and Dean his golden mockingjay pin. 

_ “Listen, Dean,” Bobby says, grabbing the back of Dean’s neck, staring into his eyes. “When you’re in there, remember who the real enemy is.” _

After that, Dean had taken Cas into his arms one last time before they were ushered to the hovercraft that would take them to the Arena. 

Dean touches his forearm, wincing as he runs his finger over the bump where the tracker is embedded in his skin. This way, the Gamemakers will know where he is at all times inside of the Arena. Can’t be losing Tributes now, can they?

Balthazar brings him out of his inner musing and Dean chastises himself. He can’t be in his head like this. He has to get a grip, get his head ready. Because in a few minutes, his life will literally be on the line again. “This material will offer little in the way of protecting from cold or water.”

“What are you thinking? Sun?”

Balthazar shrugs. “If it’s been treated.” Then he puts the mockingjay pin on Dean’s jumpsuit before stepping back. 

“Thank you,” Dean tells him, giving him a small smile. “My outfit last night was amazing.”

“I thought you might like it.” Dean steps into the platform that will raise him up into the Arena. “Good luck, Dean. I’m rooting for you.”

Balthazar’s words warm him, preparing him. Dean stands tall, his head held high as he waits. The platform slides closed, a glass wall separating them. But Dean doesn’t move, doesn’t rise. He looks around, confused. He puts a hand against the glass, looking at Balthazar who only shrugs, not knowing what’s going on either. 

Suddenly, the door behind Balthazar bursts open. Dean watches with wide eyes as two Peacekeepers storm in. One shoves Balthazar to his knees as the other pulls out a pistol. 

“No! No! Don’t!” Dean screams but it echoes behind the glass. He pounds his fists, his heart racing. “Please don’t!”

Balthazar doesn’t even flinch as the pistol is pressed against his forehead. Dean screams and screams and screams but it doesn’t stop anything. He’s powerless as the Peacekeeper pulls the trigger. 

Dean stares, unable to look away as Balthazar crumbles to the ground, his own knees giving out. His hands shake and biles rises up in his throat, threatening to choke him. His hands pound halfheartedly against the glass. His eyes prickle as the Peacekeepers grab each of Balthazar’s arms, dragging him out of the room like he’s some kind of trash rather than a fucking  _ person _ . 

That’s when the platform begins to move. 

Dean scrambles to stand, his head growing dizzy from the suddenness of his movements. He shakes his arms out, trying to get them under control. He sucks in breath after breath, trying to calm his racing heart.  _ What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,  _ plays over and over in his head like a mantra. 

Dean can only assume this was planned, that whatever just happened was a set up to throw him off, to startle him so badly it would ruin his chances of surviving. He’s not about to let that happen. He  _ can’t _ . Not when he’s promised so many people he’d try his damndest to get out of here. 

The platform under his feet continues to rise until light is bursting so bright he has to cover his eyes. He allows a moment for his eyes to adjust before he’s looking around.  _ Focus, focus, _ he tells himself, getting himself to fucking look around and figure out where he is. The sun above him is scorching. When Dean looks down, the ground around the platform  _ moves _ . 

“What the fuck,” he whispers to himself. He looks to his left and finds Max, the Tribute from District One standing on his platform, a long divider of land between them. When he looks to his right, Dean finds the same divider before finding Donna, the Tribute from District Eleven. Dean clenches his eyes shut again, trying to get himself to see what’s in front of him. Why is the ground moving?

“Oh,” he says out loud. “It’s water.” The timer above the Cornucopia counts down and the pounding in Dean’s ears grows even louder. The dividers of land spring from the Cornucopia outwards towards land behind him. Dean shields his eyes from the sun, getting a good look at the Cornucopia. It’s filled with every weapon Dean’s seen used during training and more. Off to the side he spots a bow and quiver filled with arrows. That’s  _ his _ . 

_ Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. _

Fuck. Where’s Cas? Dean decides he must be on the other side of the Cornucopia. He’s just gonna have to fight his way over there. 

_ Nine. Eight. Seven. _

Dean turns his body towards Donna, leaning forward and preparing himself to jump. He’s lucky he learned to swim in the little pond out in the woods in District Twelve. Benny must be loving this Arena, coming from District Four. 

_ Three. Two. One.  _

_ Boom! _

Dean jumps. 

The water is warm as he cuts through it, racing as fast as he can towards the land. His heart is racing as he grabs hold, pulling himself up onto land. His feet move before his brain does, taking him straight towards the Cornucopia. From the corner of his eye, he can see Max running as hard as he can and it makes Dean double his efforts. It works in his favor, being the first to the middle of the Cornucopia. He picks up the quiver, sliding it onto his shoulder and pulling an arrow free all in one motion. 

When Dean turns, Max is so close. Dean pulls his string back, letting an arrow fly. It hits its mark right in Max’s calf, forcing him down into the water. 

He’s pulling another arrow, turning quickly when he hears a noise next to him. Just before he lets go of the string, Dean pauses. It’s Benny, holding a trident in one hand, the other up in surrender. He turns his wrist and Dean’s eyes catch on the gold, glinting in the light. 

“Good thing we’re allies, right?” Benny says with a smirk. 

Dean’s heart beats so fast, his brain going a mile a minute. Can he really trust Benny? Can he really kill him right now? Fuck. It’s obviously Bobby’s bracelet. Why the fuck does Benny have it?

“Where did you get that?”

Benny’s quick to answer. “Where do you think?” Then his eyes go wide before he’s yelling, “duck!”

Dean acts fast, ducking. The sickening sound of the trident hitting a chest rings through Dean’s ears. The canon sounds, declaring the Tribute’s death. Dean stands up on shaky legs, mentally scolding himself, telling himself to get it together. 

“Don’t trust One or Two,” Benny says, pulling his trident free. “I’ll take this side. You hold them off. I’ll go find Cas!”

Dean turns, doing as Benny asked, watching their backs. Alicia is getting a little too close for comfort so Dean fires an arrow at her. She just barely gets out of the way, diving into the water to escape his shot. 

“Jody found him,” Benny calls. “He’s over here!”

They both run to the other side of the Cornucopia, their steps careful on the uneven ground. When Dean finds Cas, his heart feels like it stops. Dean pulls the string of his bow back, readying to shoot but he doesn’t have a shot, not without the risk of hitting Cas by accident. He throws his bow onto the ground, getting ready to jump into the water to help his alpha, finding Cas wrestling with another Tribute in the water. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out as they both go down under the water. “Cas, no!”

“I got him, cover me,” Benny says before diving into the water, not giving Dean time to argue. Dean’s chest aches as he watches and waits. There’s no movement where they both went under. Not like this. It can’t be like this. 

_ Boom _ ! 

“No!” Dean screams, his hands tightening around his bow. “Come on, you son of a bitch.”

It feels like forever before someone is bursting out of the water. Dean nearly sags to his knees in relief when he recognizes that dark head of hair. They’ve only just gotten into the Arena and already he feels like they’ve been here for days. 

Benny swims over to Cas, helping him paddle over to the divider. Dean reaches down, pulling Cas up onto land, planting a quick kiss to his lips in way of saying ‘thanks for not dying’. Then he’s pulling Cas towards the beach, leaving the Cornucopia behind them. 

“Hold on,” Benny says before pulling Jody onto his back and running with them. They need to get as far away from this fucking bloodbath as possible now that the Careers have finally gotten to the middle, looking through the weapons. 

“Why are you carrying her?” Dean asks as they run. 

“Ankle,” he says back. 

Once they’re within the confines of the trees, Dean takes a moment to look around. He’s never seen trees quite like this before. They’re so unlike his beloved forest. There’s a weird looking bird on a branch, something he vaguely recognizes from his lessons on the Games. Oh.  _ Jungle _ , his mind supplies. They’re in a jungle. 

They push forward, moving up a hill. As they walk, Dean begins to sweat. It’s so hot in this Arena, so different from his first Games. Every time he takes a deep breath, he feels like he’s getting a mouthful of water with how humid it is. 

There’s another boom, signalling another death. Dean’s stomach sinks when they continue walking. He was an idiot to think there would be a difference with this Games, to think the Tributes wouldn’t go straight into killing each other. Just because they all held hands last night didn’t change a fucking thing. 

“Just figuring it out right now, brother?” Benny asks softly, like he can sense the change in Dean. “Not all hand holding and support in the light of day, is it?”

Dean glares before murmuring, “no. I guess it’s not.”

He turns back forward, ignoring Benny. That’s when he sees it. The ripple in the sky up ahead. He only has a moment to scream, “Cas! Wait!” before Cas’ blade is hitting the forcefield. It lets out a loud zap before Cas is thrown back. He hits the ground with a loud thud that makes Dean sick to his stomach. 

Dean gets on the ground next to his mate, touching his face, checking for a pulse. “No, no, no! He’s not breathing! Oh my god, he’s not breathing!”

Benny is shoving Dean away, making him land with a grunt on his ass. What the fuck is he doing? Getting ready to finish the job? Well there’s no way in hell Dean is letting that happen, ally or not! He picks up his bow, pulling back the nocked arrow. And then he freezes because Benny is  _ kissing _ Cas?

It takes Dean a long moment to really register what he’s seeing, the tip of his arrow dropping down into the mud as he leans forward. He’s seen that before. Benny is pushing air into Cas’ lungs, then pushing on his chest. He’s seen his mother do something similar in the past, not that it’s done any good. By the time people come to his mother, it’s usually too late for  _ that _ particular maneuver. But where Benny’s from, surrounded by water, he must have learned this. 

“Please,” he gets out, moving closer. “Cas,  _ please! _ ”

That’s when Cas sucks in a sharp breath, his body jackknifing off the ground. Benny sits back on his heels, his breaths coming out in pants. Dean jumps forward, wrapping his arms around Cas’ frame. “You fucking asshole,” Dean gets out, his eyes watering from the relief he feels. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again, you hear me. You  _ died _ .”

“Oh,” Cas says, his arms coming up around Dean. “I’m sorry.” He coughs. Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair, his other hand resting against Cas’ chest, feeling the way his heart keeps beating. “Watch out,” Cas grits out. “There’s a force field ahead.”

Dean lets out a wet laugh before shoving his face against Cas’ throat, whining when he can’t smell Cas’ scent. His eyes continue to drip with tears but he doesn’t fucking care, not when his mate is still  _ alive _ . 

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. My heart is working again. I’m here.”

Dean pulls back enough to kiss Cas’ lips, not caring that he’s gross with snot and tears. His alpha is okay. Dean’s hands shake as he sits up. “Do you wanna try standing up?”

“Yeah,” Cas says, gingerly letting Dean sit him up. When he’s completely up, Dean pulls him into a tight hug. 

Dean wipes his face, feeling self conscious now that he remembers Jody and Benny are stood there watching the entire thing. He looks away, picking his bow and quiver back up. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Benny says, giving Dean a smile. “Must be all those hormones.”

Hormones. Right. Because Dean is pregnant right now. At least, that’s what the entire country thinks. He gives Benny a nod, resting his hand on his belly for a moment before putting his arm around Cas, helping to keep him steady as they walk, now painfully careful of the forcefield. 


	6. Chapter 6

It doesn’t take long before Cas is out of breath, his body refusing to go any further. With Dean by his side, helping him walk, he tries to keep going. But he’s slowing them all down. 

“I think we should find a spot to camp for the night,” Dean says. He’s about to protest but Benny agrees, claiming to be tired from carrying Jody the entire time. Castiel is sure Benny is only humouring them but he’ll take it as he literally can’t catch his breath. They find a spot with their backs to the forcefield. Jody tosses some nuts she’s found along the way against the forcefield and they bounce back perfectly cooked. 

“I’m gonna climb a tree, get a feel for the area,” Dean announces before climbing up. When he comes back down, his face is grim. “The bloodbath was bad,” he says. “The sand is practically pink from the blood.”

“All that shit up on stage is in the past,” Benny says, crossing his arms over his chest. “No one in this Arena is here by accident. No one becomes a  _ Victor _ by chance. Well,” he pauses, nodding over at Castiel. “Except maybe Cas.”

Dean nods, his brows wrinkling. Castiel tries not to feel offended. He knows he’s not like the other alphas, not bloodthirsty like the other Tributes. He’s never allowed the Games to change him, and he’s not about to let it happen now. He steps in between Dean and Benny, breaking off their staring. 

“You should hunt, Dean. See if you can’t find us some fresh water.”

“I’m not sure we’re gonna find any. From what I can tell, the Arena is a round dome, the only water I could see was in the middle and that was salt water.”

Castiel grimaces. “Great.”

“I’ll look. We’ll find something,” Dean says, kissing Castiel’s forehead. “You should rest, alpha.”

Castiel nods before laying against a tree trunk. It’s not long before Dean is back, holding some sort of gross looking rat thing by its long tail. He cuts it up, announcing the meat looks no different that a squirrel’s. Castiel picks up a chunk of meat, tossing it against the forcefield to cook it. The meat is juicy and tender, forcing a groan of appreciation from Castiel’s throat. 

“No water?” Benny asks as they all eat the meat and the nuts. 

“Nope. Nothing.”

“There has to be water,” Benny says with a shake of his head. “No water and we’ll all be dead in a matter of days.”

Castiel doesn’t add that might be the Capitol’s plan, letting them all die quickly since this Game is so unpopular and problematic. Castiel lets out a sigh, tilting his head up towards the sky when something catches his eye. “Hey,” he says, nudging Dean and pointing up at the trees. There. A white parachute is falling down towards them. 

“Oh!” Dean exclaims, jumping up onto his feet and grabbing the tiny package. During the Games, sponsors can pay big bucks to drop items into the Arena for whichever Tribute they’d like to sponsor. It seems one of them has gained an ally outside of the Arena. “Who do you think it’s for?”

Benny raises a brow. “Let’s let Cas open it since he died today.”

Castiel shrugs, taking the package and popping it open. He finds a little metal contraption inside. There’s an opening that he slides his pinky in, turning it every which way, trying to figure out what it’s for. He passes it over to Benny, letting him take a look. 

“God, it’s so familiar but I can’t put my finger on it,” Dean says, touching his chin, staring down at the thing. Bobby had a say in this object, it wouldn’t be for nothing. He’d want them to use it, to keep them alive. 

“Oh!” Castiel says, grabbing it from Jody. “I think I know what it is. We were just talking about needing water. And I’ve seen this before. They use this to get sap out of the trees in District Twelve!”

“You son of a bitch,” Dean says with a wide smile. He takes Castiel’s blade, using it to whittle a hole into a tree trunk before shoving the medal contraption inside, letting out a cheer when water begins to dribble out. He plays with it until it’s pouring like a faucet. 

When Castiel takes his turn he groans, finally quenching his thirst. The water is warm, just like everything else inside of the Arena but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He lets the water pour over his head before drinking a few more gulps, getting out of the way and letting Jody take her fill. 

The day is catching up to Castiel, his eyelids growing heavy. “Rest,” Dean says, leaning against a tree trunk, his bow in his lap. “I’ll take the first watch, it’s okay.”

Castiel nods but before he can lay down, the National anthem is playing, drawing their attention to the sky. Every night during the Games, the Capitol announces who died that day. Castiel looks over at Benny and Jody, wincing in sympathy. This is going to be so much harder for them, having known everyone for so long. 

The sky lights up with the Capitol’s seal before showing the faces of each fallen Tribute. The man from District Five is first, Dean letting him know that’s the one Benny killed at the Cornucopia, the alpha morphling from District Six, Castiel thinks his name was Kevin, both Tributes from District Eight, both from Nine, and the omega from District Ten. Seven people already gone. 

Silence rings through the jungle, the only noises are that of the animals moving around in the night. Castiel didn’t even know these people but he feels sick to his stomach knowing they’re gone forever. Kevin, who drew a yellow flower on Castiel’s cheek during training, Lisa from District Nine was kind, told him about her son back home. Now he’s without a mother, because of these sick, cruel Games. 

“Go to sleep,” Dean finally whispers and Castiel doesn’t argue, just closes his eyes and let’s himself sleep. 

~~~

A loud boom startles Castiel awake. He springs up, ready to defend himself but there’s no one there. The booming continues, one right after the other. His heart speeds up, beating against his ribs. It’s still dark out, the trees looming over them making it hard to see. His companions all look at each other, wondering what the booming could mean. 

“Huh,” Dean says, looking up at the sky. “I counted twelve.”

“Same,” Benny says, his trident in his hand. 

“For Twelve Districts or something?”

Jody shrugs, laying back down against her moss pillow. “You should sleep,” Castiel says, nudging Dean. “I can sit up now.”

“No, you should be resting,” Dean tries to say but he cuts himself off with a yawn. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll wake you at the first sign of trouble.”

A rumble sounds through the jungle right before rain starts pouring. Only, the rain doesn’t touch where they sit, the sound of it coming from their right. “Maybe that’s how others are supposed to get water,” Benny muses to himself. “Maybe they’ll have to collect rain.”

Dean finally lays down, his head against Castiel’s thigh. Castiel rests his hand in Dean’s hair, loves the way he’s able to just feel his omega here, safe. “I’ll protect you,” Castiel whispers. 

Dean’s lips curl up slightly. “You always do, alpha.”

Castiel isn’t sure how much time passes before the rain stops. The jungle seems to come alive now that the background noise is gone. Castiel looks to his right, his eyes catching movement. It seems the rain left behind some fog, it makes sense with how humid and warm the air is in this Arena. 

Castiel stares for a long moment. The fog is moving, its hypnotic swaying and rising making him pause. He’s never seen fog move like that before. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as it grows closer. 

Without thinking, Castiel shakes Dean awake. “Dean, Benny. Wake up. Something’s not right.”

Benny is quick to pick up his trident, waving it in surprise. Only the enemy isn’t another Tribute. Castiel reaches his hand out towards the fog, just barely touching the wispy grey before pulling his hand back with a sharp hiss. It fucking  _ burns _ and when he looks down, boils are forming on his skin. 

“ _ Move _ !” he yells, yanking Dean up by his jumpsuit, tugging him along. 

“Fuck,” Dean yelps, quickly getting with the program and running. Benny picks up Jody, slinging her against his back before running alongside them. Dean wraps his arm around Castiel’s back, helping him run, his chest burning with exhaustion from hitting the forcefield earlier. Fuck! 

“Shit,” Benny hisses, the fog licking across his back as they run. That’s when Castiel truly begins to feel terror. Benny’s body starts to twitch and flail where the fog has touched him, Castiel’s hand doing the same. This isn’t just a painful fog, it also paralyses, messing with their nerves. 

Benny leads them away from the fog at an angle, towards the left and down towards the beach. Castiel is grateful they’ve somehow managed to have Benny as an ally, he’s proved himself more than useful more than once now, keeping them both alive. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grits out through clenched teeth, the arm around Castiel losing its grip. Castiel tumbles forward, letting out a groan as he hits the ground. Dean scrambles to help him back up. Castiel legs begin to twitch, his thighs shaking as he runs. 

“I can’t,” Castiel admits, slowing Dean down. “Dean, I can’t. Just go.”

“No. Don’t fucking say that,” Dean yells back, pulling Castiel along. “We’re getting out of here, damn it.”

They’ve barely gotten ahead of the fog, leaving a gap between them and it. Castiel sucks in lungfuls of breath, trying to get his body to do what he wants but it won’t listen, twitching and flailing about. Benny stops, putting Jody down. “I can’t carry you both,” he says quietly, his voice sounding torn up. 

Jody nods her head, patting Benny’s cheek. She leans forward, kissing his cheek before turning towards Dean. She grips his shoulder for a moment before turning away from them all. 

“Jody,” Dean gets out. “Jody, what are you doing?” But she doesn’t respond, only walks  _ straight into the fog _ . “No!”

Benny steps over, grabbing Castiel’s twitching body and slinging him over his shoulder before moving again. He looks over his shoulder and calls, “don’t make her waste her sacrifice, Dean!”

Dean pulls his eyes away from Jody’s body just as a canon sounds, announcing her death. “Fuck!” Dean screams before following behind them. The fog continues to lick at their heels, tendrils reaching out and touching them, filling their nerves with fire. 

The beach is in sight, they’re so close. Just then, Benny’s foot catches on a tree trunk and they go tumbling forward. Castiel closes his eyes, letting himself fall down the slope. His muscles all move on their own, his mind growing foggy with fatigue. He can do nothing more than let himself be tossed this way and that as gravity pulls him down the hill. When they land at the bottom, all piled into a heap, Castiel holds his breath, his eyes lidded as he watches the fog descend towards them. It seems to pick up speed as it races down the hill. 

He closes his eyes, letting out a deep breath, waiting. Only. Nothing happens. 

He opens his eyes again, finding the fog stuck behind an invisible barrier. Ah, so the Gamemakers have traps in certain sections of the Arena and somehow, they’ve barely made it out of the fog section. 

Castiel’s body slumps against the ground, letting out a shaky, relieved breath. His head is still spinning. They’re not dead. Except Jody is. She  _ sacrificed _ herself so they could keep going, so  _ Castiel _ could keep going. Why would she do that? 

Dean lets out a groan beside him, pulling himself forward by his forearms towards the water, his lower half not responding, just twitching occasionally. It hurts to see his mate like this, so hurt, and unable to do anything to help. 

Dean drops his arms into the water, letting out a hiss of pain. “The water,” he calls, his words slurred. “It helps.”

With what little strength Castiel has, he pulls himself over to the water. He dunks his hands into the water, his skin feeling like it’s literally burning off before the pain is soothed. He watches as puffs of fog leaves his pores as he dunks his skin into the water. Slowly but surely, they both clean themselves completely, getting themselves fully into the water. Already, Castiel’s brain feels like the fog is receding and he can focus again, his muscles and appendages doing what he wishes them to do. 

Castiel looks over at Dean, his chest doing a weird flutter at the sight of his mate swimming around, looking like himself again. That was too close. 

“Let’s get Benny into the water,” he says, nodding towards their fallen ally. Benny groans, his face against the dirt, his body spasming randomly. 

They each grab an arm, pulling him towards the water. They start with his legs, dipping them in. Castiel grimaces as Benny cries out, screaming in agony as they slowly drop him into the water. Eventually, the alpha is able to stand on his own. The water seems to be transforming Benny, making him more alive. He’s swimming, diving, doing flips in the water. 

Castiel exhales, feeling his chest loosen ever so slightly. For now, they’re okay. They’re alive. 

“I’m gonna tap a tree,” Castiel announces. Picking up their metal contraption, he steps to the right, away from the fog, finding a tree to tap to get them some water. 

All is well and right in the world for a moment. Turning around, Castiel startles to find Dean right behind him. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says with a gentle smile. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean says back, his lips twisting into a sickly sweet smile. Castiel’s stomach sinks, his gut telling him something’s wrong. He pulls his blade just as Dean winks, his eyes flicking solid black. 


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m sorry about Jody,” Dean says as he helps Benny out of the water. 

Benny looks at him for a moment before giving a shrug and looking away. “She was never gonna make it,” he says softly. “Not with that ankle.”

Dean looks back out at the Cornucopia, shaking his head sadly. He hates this fucking place.

Benny steps out of the water, giving Dean a nod towards the treeline. “What’s up with your alpha?”

Dean looks, tilting his head slightly. Cas is looking around, like he’s taking everything in before walking towards them. Dean’s gut clenches. Something’s not right. 

“Hey,” he says gently. “You okay, Cas?”

Cas steps closer, his face splitting into a wide smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, Dean. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Just then, someone else walks out of the treeline and Dean freezes, hearing Benny make a broken noise. “Andrea?”

“Benny!” the woman cries before running towards him. Dean watches with wide eyes as the two run into each other’s arms, holding each other. 

“Andrea! How are you here? Did the Gamemakers take you?”

Dean looks back to Cas. “What the fuck is going on?”

Cas smirks just as Benny lets out a cry. Dean pulls his bow, an arrow ready to fly to find Andrea with her hands wrapped around Benny’s throat. Before he can shoot, Castiel is shoving his bow to the ground. Dean falls to the ground as Castiel punches his jaw. “What the fuck, Cas?”

Dean wipes the blood from his lips, looking up into pure black eyes. He shoves his feet out, kicking whatever this is in the gut. They let out a grunt as their ass hits the ground. Dean is on this thing in an instant. He pulls the arrow out of the sand, using it to stab this fucking  _ mutt _ in the throat, twisting it to make sure it’s a killing blow before pulling it out. The mutation gurgles on it’s own blood. 

Dean’s stomach sours, bile rising up in his throat as he watches the light fade from an exact replica of Cas’ eyes. Fuck! Fucking Gamemakers and their fucking sick twists. 

Dean stands up on shaky legs, finding Benny crying out for Andrea to stop. He picks up his bow. “Benny!” he shouts. When the alpha turns, it leaves a perfect shot for Dean and he takes it, killing the mutt with Benny’s lover’s face. 

Dean watches as the alpha kneels on the ground, holding the mutt close, his eyes glistening with tears. He can’t stay and make sure Benny is okay. With a racing heart, and shaky hands, Dean sprints into the jungle, his bow poised and ready. He hears a voice that is eerily similar to his own and he treads carefully, quietly. 

“Oh, my sweet, sweet alpha,” the mutt coos and Dean follows the sound, determined to find the source before it can hurt Cas. He hears a loud thud and his heart sinks. Where the fuck are they, damn it!

He hears Cas grunt and his feet pick up speed. Just as he’s rounding a corner, he sees them. Except, he’s too late. He watches with wide eyes as the mutt raises Cas’ blade, swinging it towards his belly. Dean knows without a shadow of a doubt that it will deliver a death blow. 

Only. That’s not what happens. 

Between one blink and another, a body flies down from the tree above, diving onto the mutt. The dark haired woman lets out a scream as the knife impales her belly. Dean finally moves, landing an arrow into the mutt, making sure it’s dead before running over to them. 

For a moment, Dean wonders if this will be just like Charlie. Will he need to sing to the woman? Make sure she’s not alone? But Cas is there, pulling the woman off the mutt, cradling her against his chest. He’s beaten and bloodied from the mutt but he only has eyes for her. 

“Hey,” he says gently. “Remember in the training center, Meg?” 

“I remember, Clarence. We painted together.”

“Yes. Exactly,” Cas says, pulling her dark locks off of her face. “You know my favorite thing to try and paint is a sunset. But it’s just so tough. The perfect colors only last for a few minutes before the sun is disappearing, never showing the same colored sunset again.”

Meg, the morphling from District Six, Dean now realizes, watches Cas talk like his words are the most amazing words she’s ever heard. And maybe they are. Dean watches, transfixed as his alpha cares for the fallen omega, telling her a story of sunsets and paints. Meg dips her fingers into the blood coming from her belly, reaching up to swirl her finger against Cas’ cheek. 

“Thank you,” Cas says gently. “It’s beautiful.”

After another moment, Meg goes still before a canon booms. Cas lays her onto the ground before standing up. Dean is there in an instant, grabbing Cas tight and helping him towards the beach. 

They find Benny there, sitting cross legged on the beach, staring out towards the water. After washing the blood from his hands, Dean and Cas sit on either side of Benny, providing what little comfort they can. 

A hovercraft comes, flying over their heads in order to pick up Meg’s body and take her away from the Arena. Dean’s heart feels heavy as the hovercraft flies away. 

Dean isn’t sure how long they sit there before rain starts to fall, trickling against the jungle foliage, but just like the fog, it seems to be in one area of the Arena. 

Another cannon sounds, making Dean jump.

Benny lets out a full bellied laugh, snapping out of whatever state he was in. “That?” he says, pointing up into the sky. “That is music to my fucking ears. One less person that  _ I  _ have to take out.”

“Good to know,” Dean whispers to himself. 

“Don’t act like you’re above this, Dean. You didn’t hesitate when it came to those mutts.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, tensing. “Because that’s what they were, Benny. Mutts!”

Benny shakes his head, standing up. Dean stands up too, his defenses up. “Bobby’s gonna owe me so much,” Benny murmurs to himself. 

Dean’s brows wrinkle. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dean wants to press the matter further but Cas is grabbing his wrist. “Look,” he whispers, pointing down the beach where three people emerge. They come stumbling out of the foliage, uncaring that they’re leaving themselves vulnerable to an attack. Dean raises his bow.

Benny steps in his line of sight, shoving his bow down. “Claire!” he calls out, running towards them. 

“ _ Claire _ ?” Dean asks, his voice coming out higher than he meant. He looks over at Cas who just gives him a shrug, the traitor. “What the hell,” Dean whines, putting his bow down and slowly following behind Benny. 

“Guess we have more allies,” Cas says, giving Dean a look that’s silently telling him not to shoot every single one of them. 

As they get closer, he sees all three of the people stumbling towards the water are covered in blood. Claire is retelling something to Benny and the two in the water are trying to get rid of the blood. That’s when Dean realizes it’s Ash and Crowley! His steps pick up speed, wanting to check and make sure they’re okay. 

“That’s when the rain started,” Claire says, her lips turning down into a frown. “I thought it was water. But no. It was blood! Hot. Thick. Blood!”

Ash walks up to them, grabbing onto Claire’s arm. “Tick, tock. Tick, tock!”

Claire shoves him away. “We were stumbling around. Blind. Gagging on the blood.” She shakes her head. “That’s when Bela hit the force field.”

“Tick, tock. Tick, tock!” Ash says, his voice sounding high and frantic. 

“She wasn’t much,” Claire says with a shrug. “But she was from home, ya know.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Dean asks, nodding towards Ash, who’s trying to grab Claire again. 

“He’s in shock,” Crowley says, still sitting in the water, looking less red now.

“Tick, tock!” Ash yells, grabbing Claire’s arm. Claire shoves him away, making him land on his ass and Dean sees red. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he yells, shoving Claire away. Claire fights back, taking a swing at him which Dean dodges. 

“Stop it!” she yells. “I got them out  _ for you _ !”

Benny grabs Claire, picking her up over his shoulder and tossing her into the water. 

Cas is there, pulling Dean back. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Dean stumbles back, staring at a cursing Claire being dunked under the water. “For me? What does that mean?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe Bobby made a deal with her? Told her she could be our ally if she brought you these two?”

Ash walks up to him, giving him a giant smile before whispering, “tick, tock.”

“Alright,” Dean says, taking the other omega’s hand, guiding him towards the water. “Let’s get ya cleaned up, buddy.”

He helps Ash wash the blood away, all the while the omega whispers, “tick, tock. Tick, tock,” over and over again. Dean looks around the Arena, something nagging at the back of his mind. 

“Tick, tock,” he whispers right back and watches as Ash’s face lights up, nodding at him in encouragement. “Tick, tock.”

Dean stands up, walking around in a circle, spinning slowly. The Cornucopia is at the middle of the Arena, each section of jungle is completely symmetrical. The canon sounded twelve times at midnight. There are twelve dividers. “Tick, tock,” he says again, everything falling into place. “Tick, tock. This is a clock.”

Ash claps his hands, nodding vigorously. “Yes!”

“It’s a clock!” Dean yells, waving Cas over. “Oh my god! It’s a clock!”

All six of them take off down one of the dividers towards the Cornucopia. Dean points at the tail of the Cornucopia and the direction it points. “The tail points to noon. At midnight and noon, lightning strikes before a full blown storm hits.”

“After that is the blood rain,” Claire says, pointing at the next section. 

“And after that is the fog,” Cas says. 

“After the fog are the mutts.”

“Did you see anything else?” Benny asks Claire. “Do you have any idea what the other sections could hold?”

She shakes her head. “Only blood.”

Ash sits off to the side, dangling his feet into the water, whispering a song to himself. Whatever’s happened to him this far in the Games must have left him too overwhelmed. Dean wishes he could summon a hovercraft to take the poor omega away.

They discuss all the things that have happened to them so far in the Arena, all the while picking through the weapons, seeing if there’s anything else they’ll want. As they’re browsing, Ash’s song is cut short. Dean turns, letting out a noise of distress as Max lifts himself out of the water, slitting Ash’s throat. “No!” he cries, letting an arrow fly. It lands right in the middle of Max’s chest and the Tribute from District One falls into the water just as two canons sound. 

Dean’s about to turn when Claire shoves him out of the way. He hits the ground hard, turning just in time to see her axe swing at Alicia, Max’ sister. Dean hears the sickening sound of it landing in Alicia’s chest before he’s rolling, getting back up to his feet. 

There’s movement on his right and he pulls back his bow string, trying to find a shot on either Alastair or Abbadon as they attack their group. He tries to take a shot but it misses, banging into the side of the Cornucopia. 

The two take off around the Cornucopia and Dean is quick to follow them. In the back of his mind, he notices Benny grab Cas and keep him behind but he can’t focus on that, not when there’s  _ danger _ . He lets his instinct take over, letting himself get lost in the hunt. 

Dean stops, lining up a shot when suddenly, the ground beneath his feet shakes before  _ moving _ . Oh god. 

The area around the Cornucopia begins to spin. It starts slow but quickly speeds up, spinning rapidly. He hits the ground, his fingers digging into the rock as best as he can, trying desperately to hold on. 

As hard as he tries, Dean slips. He cries out as he begins to fall towards the water, not sure if he’ll survive that. Just before he falls completely, a hand is gripping his wrist. 

Claire screams, digging her axe into the rock, trying to keep them both anchored. “Fuck! Hold on!”

Dean tries his best. But Claire’s hand begins to slip from her axe. If he’s gonna fall, he’s not gonna take someone else with him. Taking a deep breath, he lets go. 

His breath is stolen from his lungs when he hits the water. He spins and twirls, not knowing which way is up or which is down. Dean closes his eyes, trying to keep himself relaxed, not fighting the water. His lungs begin to ache and burn, demanding air which he can’t give. 

Dean is fully expecting to die like this. But apparently the Gamemakers aren’t done torturing him yet because the island stops moving and Dean is finally able to swim to the surface. Cas pulls him back up onto land and he sucks in greedily, taking in as much air as he can now that he’s allowed. 

“You okay?” Cas asks, patting his back gently, helping him to spit up the last of the water. 

“Peachy,” he says back. 

“Let’s get what shit we want and get the fuck off this island,” Claire tells them, her voice leaving no room for argument. Not that Dean wants to argue. He wants to get the fuck off this island, too.

It doesn’t take long before they’re heading over to the beach, finding a spot under the cover of the trees, trying to regroup. Dean coughs a moment, trying to get the last of the water from his lungs, his chest aching from the salt water. 

“We know Alastair and Abaddon are still alive,” Benny says as they all crouch down together under the shade of the trees. 

“I’m pretty sure both from District Eleven are still out there, along with Lilith,” Claire says, tying her hair back. 

“That’s only five left,” Dean says. “What should we do? Go hunting?”

Benny and Claire share a look before turning back to him, shaking their heads. “Dean,” Benny says carefully. “There’s something we gotta tell you, brother.”

Just then, a parachute falls onto the beach to the left of them. Benny quickly picks it up, opening it to see what’s inside. Benny picks up a loaf of bread. His eyes flick up to Claire’s for a moment before he’s bursting it open. 

“What the hell?” Dean asks as Benny pulls out a piece of paper. In the Arena, they’re supposed to be completely on their own, unable to communicate with the outside world. 

“It’s about what you need to know, Dean. We need your help,” Benny explains. “In an hour, all cameras will be on us, and we’ll need to do everything we can to rally the rebels.”

“The rebels are  _ winning _ ,” Claire says. “And we’re getting out of here. But we need to help any way we can.” She shakes her head, giving them a smirk. “You did already by your mockingjay costume and the whole baby thing. But now they need an extra boost.”

So many things begin to click into place. 

Dean turns to his mate, staring at him with wide eyes. “That morphling.”

“She sacrificed herself for me,” Cas says, his voice coming out slow, like he’s processing everything the same as Dean.

“And you,” Dean says pointing at Benny. “You saved Cas, even though you could have let him die. And you,” Dean calls out, shoving his hand at Claire. “You saved me during that shit storm at the Cornucopia. You’ve all been keeping us alive!”

Benny nods. Dean shakes his head, standing up and turning away. “So I’m yet  _ another _ pawn in this stupid fucking Game,” he yells to no one in particular. “Just another tool for everyone to use!”

“Dean, it’s not like that.”

“It’s  _ exactly _ like that. You kept me alive because you need me. God, I can’t believe this.”

Cas steps in his way, stopping his pacing. His mate grabs his neck, forcing him to stop and look at him. “What they did was wrong,” he whispers. “But we can help the rebels. We can stop these Games from happening in the future.”

Dean bites his lip. “I don’t know, Cas,” he whispers. 

Suddenly, Dean’s body tenses, his body growing chill from fear. In the distance, he hears an eerily familiar scream.  _ Sammy’s _ scream. And before anyone can stop him, he’s running into the jungle. 


	8. Chapter 8

The screams come again, ringing through the jungle. Dean’s feet continue to move, getting closer and closer to the sound. Fear grips him tight, choking him. The only thing he can do is keep running, desperate to save his little brother. As he drives himself closer, another scream sounds, echoing through the jungle. 

Terror slides down Dean’s spine like an ice cube, making him bristle and tense. His eyes look up into the trees, searching. 

Another scream rings out, but this time it’s a woman’s voice. There’s steps coming up behind him until Benny is at his side, staring up at the same thing. 

“It’s not real,” Dean says quietly, looking at the fucking speaker attached to the tree. He tosses his bow and quiver onto the ground before scaling the tree, thankful he’s an omega and light enough to climb. 

At the top, he looks at the speaker, flinching when the woman’s scream rings out once more. Benny lets out a growl, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. “It’s all a ploy, man,” Dean calls down. “They want you to be upset. But it’s not real.”

“How do you think they got those sounds, Dean? They had to get the recordings from somewhere!”

Dean shakes his head. There’s no way they’d do that. At this point in the Games, the Capitol would send people to interview their loved ones and it’s no surprise that the Capitol loves Sammy. There’s no way they’d get away with drawing screams like that from him. 

Although, there’s no way to know what’s going on outside of these walls. Proven even further by the parachute they’d just gotten. Dean’s head feels like it’s spinning, his skin crawling. So he focuses on the one thing he  _ can _ do, tugging the speaker free until it dies completely, the screams coming to a full stop. He lets out a sigh. 

Just then, the tree Dean is in starts letting out a mist. “What the--” he starts but stops when he’s suddenly choking, the mist hitting his face and getting into his mouth and nose. Dean coughs, looking down to find Benny getting hit with the mist as well. 

“What the hell was that?” Benny asks as soon as Dean is hitting the ground. He picks up his quiver, throwing it over his shoulder again. 

“It’s not like the fog,” he says, checking his arms and legs, finding them perfectly fine. “God, are they turning up the heat in here?”

Even more sweat drips from Dean’s brow, his body heating up, feeling like his core is on fire, heating him from the inside out. His skin tingles, growing more and more sensitive the longer they stand there. 

“Dean,” Benny says carefully. “I want you to go back towards Cas.” Dean looks at him in question, staring as Benny’s face contorts into something similar to pain. He grips Dean’s forearm hard enough to make Dean flinch. “Do  _ not _ run.”

Benny’s cheeks are slowly pinkening, his pupils dilating. Dean fans his face, the heat making him feel lightheaded. “Why would I run? Benny, what’s going on?”

“That mist. I think it was a cocktail of hormones.”

Dean’s stomach sinks to his feet as he realizes the reality of Benny’s words. He’s felt like this before in the past, whenever he’d gone into heat. Fuck. 

Dean doesn’t turn his back to the alpha as he slowly steps away, walking backwards. “It’s fine,” he says gently. “I’m just gonna go find Cas, my alpha.”

Benny nods his head, his eyes slowly bleeding with alpha red. This might be the worst thing the Gamemakers have ever put into an Arena, bringing out their base instincts like this. Suddenly Benny is moving and Dean lets out a breath as the alpha turns and runs  _ away _ from Dean. Dean in turn, takes off running towards the beach, determined to find his alpha. 

Dean’s mind grows foggier the longer he runs. Is he even running the right way? Where even  _ is _ he? Why isn’t his alpha looking for him?

Dean’s skin grows impossibly hotter, his hormones wreaking havoc on his body and mind. If he was in his right mind, he’d know what an easy target he makes. Any Tribute would be able to put him down right now, but even that can’t stop him from calling out Cas’ name, wobbling about until he sees the beach. 

“Cas!” he shouts, running towards his mate who stands there, waiting for him. Dean’s face splits into a wide smile, his stomach fluttering pleasantly at the sight of his alpha. His steps pick up speed as he runs. 

Bam! 

Dean flies back onto his ass as he runs face first into a clear barrier, keeping him and his alpha apart. 

“No!” he screams, scrambling on his hands and knees towards Cas, running his hand against the cool divider. “No! Cas!”

Cas’ mouth moves but Dean doesn’t hear anything, especially not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears. He’s alone, while his body is reacting like it would if he were in heat. Fuck. This is not good. 

Dean pounds against the wall, screaming and yelling until his throat is sore and hoarse. Tears fall down his cheeks but he can’t stop them even if he cared enough to try. He rests his forehead against the invisible glass, staring into Cas’ blue eyes, trying to keep himself calm. 

Castiel is there, staring right back. Dean tries to keep his breathing steady even as his body lights up, demanding it’s alpha. Cramps start to flare through Dean’s belly and he curls up even tighter, whimpering as the back of his wetsuit grows tacky with his slick. 

During his heat, Dean needs to be touched, to be cuddled. He needs to know his mate is  _ there _ , even if they never have sex during it. This feels like the worst form of torture, which is what the Gamemakers were going for. 

Fuck the Gamermakers for this trick they’ve played. Fuck them for thinking this is okay in any way. Dean shudders, nausea hitting him hard enough to make him gag. Smells come back full force as his hormones allow him to smell again. The smell of his own slick, the smell of the jungle all around him, and the smell of an alpha nearby puts him on edge. 

“Cas,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as he tries to breathe through the pain. 

Dean’s entire body begins to shake. Uncontrollable tremors wracking through him. There’s a pounding just behind his eyes that makes him woozy. Everything hitting him all at once and overwhelming Dean. Dean eyes his arrows very carefully. It would be so easy just to--

A roar sounds through the area and Dean freezes, his eyes widening in search of the threat. His heart is up in his throat as he finds Benny at the top of the hill, staring down at Dean. He looks so unlike the alpha that Dean’s gotten to know in the Arena, his usual blue eyes are completely alpha red. Benny opens his mouth and Dean can see the way his alpha canines are there, shining with spit. Fuck. This is bad. This is really fucking bad. 

Without his permission, a whimper leaves Dean’s throat. He turns away from Benny when the alpha lets out another roar. Dean scrambles at the glass, his eyes wide and frantic as his heart picks up speed. This is it. This is the end of the road. 

Tears stream down Dean’s cheeks, his nails chipping as he attempts to dig through the invisible barrier. “Cas!” he screams even though his throat is raw. The sound of Benny’s footsteps draw closer and all Dean can do is close his eyes and hope.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sam**

Sam flinches, his entire body breaking out in goosebumps as Benny lets out his roar and charges towards Dean. Dean is trapped, looking more and more frantic by the second. 

“Oh, god,” his mom says from beside him, grabbing Sam’s hand and gripping it tight enough to make him wince. 

“Please,” he whispers to himself, checking the clock on the wall. Any second now, the wall should disappear as the hour ends. “Please!”

Just before Benny is on him, Dean falls forward, sprawling across the ground. Sam feels like he can breathe for the first time since Dean entered this section of the Arena. Cas is there, crouching over Dean’s prone body, letting out his own growl. Sam’s not sure he’s ever seen Cas look so alpha in his life but in this moment he’s glad for it. 

Sam watches as his brother cowers on the ground, staying on his belly and submitting as the alphas face off. Claire walks into the area, grabbing Benny by the front of his wetsuit and shouting at him to snap out of it. She drags him away towards the water, forcibly dunking him under. It’s impressive with their size difference. 

“It seems Winchester is saved by the bell this time,” Dick says, his voice making Sam’s stomach sour. How sick do you have to be to be the announcer of the Games? “We’ll have to watch and see how this affects their alliance.”

They zoom back in to Cas and Dean. Cas is crouched low, gently trying to coax Dean back to himself. “Dean. Come on, sweetheart. It’s me. You’re safe.”

Dean finally looks up and around, seeming to slowly come back to himself. Sam wonders what the hell was in that mist to make them so feral before leaving their body and letting them be themselves again. The Capitol has a hell of a lot of technology that the people in the Districts could really benefit from. Just another reason for Sam to hate them. 

“I hate this,” his mom says quietly. “I hate everything about this.” When Sam looks over, she’s got tears in her eyes, one hand over her mouth. “I almost just watch my son get--” she stops, her voice breaking. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says gently. 

Sam looks back at the screen. “I’ll do it,” Dean says when he walks back out onto the beach. “Anything to prevent something like that happening ever again. This has  _ got _ to stop.”

Benny walks over slowly, his eyes on the ground, his head tilted slightly to show off his throat. “Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean steps up to Benny, touching his shoulder. “It wasn’t you.” He pauses before adding, “a wise person once told me to remember who the enemy was. Well, wouldn’t you say it’s pretty clear who that is?”

Sam sits forward, putting his elbows on his knees, compelled to keep listening. 

“Yeah, brother,” Benny says, giving a determined nod. “It’s obvious.”

The camera, which usually is darting between Tributes, stays glued on the scene on the beach. Benny looks forward and the camera zooms in, a perfect profile of his face. Benny clears his throat before talking. 

“In my years as a Victor, I became beloved and the President used that for his own gain. He paraded me around, forced me to do his bidding. He--” Benny clears his throat. “He basically sold me.” Benny takes a long pause. “I wasn’t the only one but I was the most popular. And I wasn’t allowed to say no because he knew I had loved ones back home. He told me in no uncertain terms that he would kill them if I refused. So I did as he asked.” Benny looks away for a moment, composing himself. Sam’s head is spinning. What’s going on? Why isn’t the Capitol cutting this feed? 

“During all my years, people paid me for the pleasure of my company. It was to make themselves feel better. At first it was diamonds and jewels and money but eventually, I started requesting secrets. So many, many secrets.” 

Benny proceeds to tell story after story. From big named officials cheating their way into office, to what unsavory things they were into. Some of the names Sam recognizes, other’s only those in the Capitol would know. A spark of excitement is lit in Sam’s belly. People are  _ watching _ this, hearing these stories. No doubt there’s a rebellion going on inside people’s heads, and with this, they might  _ act _ . 

“And then there’s our good ol’ President Shurley. You might be wondering how our President has stayed in office for as long as he has.” Sam holds his breath. “Poison.” How fitting for such a snake of a man. “Every time President Shurley had opposition, every time someone didn’t like the way he played god, he had them killed. He’d hold a feast where people would end up with suspicious heart attacks, suspicious lung conditions. Well, I’m no longer suspicious. President Shurley is  _ not _ god. He’s just a scared old man  _ playing _ at god.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” his mother says quietly. “How is this being aired?”

“It’s the rebels,” Sam answers, his eyes never leaving the screen. “The rebels are controlling the air. Mom,” he says, unable to contain his hope. “I think the rebels are  _ winning _ .”

“There’s been whispers,” she says. “I know you’ve heard them too. If we all band together, we can take the District back. We can get the Peacekeepers out.”

“But only if we fight together,” Sam says back. 

“Sammy,” his mom whispers, taking his hand before standing. “Look outside. It’s already happening.” And when he looks, he finds it to be true. So without further thought, Sam finds the supplies he needs before going out and joining the fight. 

**Dean**

Dean sits in the sand, watching his ally tell his story. His skin still crawls from that horrible hormone cocktail they sprayed him with. Benny weaves an elaberate tale of deceit and greed and murder. He’s transfixed, holding on to Benny’s every word. That could have been him if he hadn’t mated Cas. The thought sours his stomach further. This has to  _ stop _ . 

Cas squeezes his shoulder and Dean gives him a nod, knowing what he has to do. 

“My Games didn’t end when your screen went black,” he starts, his voice shaking as the memories come flashing back. “The Capitol didn’t want you all to see what really happened. People murdering each other for sport is fine, but watching a Tribute try to kill themselves is apparently the line they’re not willing to cross.” Dean snorts, shaking his head. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to stave off the nervous shakes that threaten to leave him paralyzed. 

Dean looks up at the sky, wishing the dome that leaves them trapped would shatter. But it doesn’t. So he keeps going. 

“As you might remember, it was only me and one other person for my Games. I was ruthless after what happened to Charlie, completely losing sight of myself. It wasn’t until the very end that I realized what a monster the Gamemakers had made me into. Just another one of their beloved mutts.” 

Dean’s stomach twists painfully. “My final kill was a Career. He put up a fight to the very end.” Dean swallows, bile rising up in his throat. He shakes his head, willing the tears away that threaten to spill. “It was bloody and horrible and I remember Dick Roman’s voice calling out my name, congratulating me. But what they didn’t know was that I had a pocket full of berries ready. They crowned me Victor. But that year, I thought ‘why the hell should they get their Victor’. I took those berries and swallowed them as quickly as I could, the poison choking me right away.” 

Dean looks over at Cas, finding his mate with his hands over his mouth, his eyes just as glassy as Dean’s. But he gives a nod, lets him know to keep going, giving him the silent strength he needs. 

“I tried to kill myself,” Dean confesses. “I tried to kill myself because death was better than living with what the Gamemakers had made me do. Death was better than being paraded around for the Capitol to see. I wanted to die as a  _ human _ instead of a puzzle piece. But they wouldn’t even allow me that.” Dean closes his eyes, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “They pulled me into a hovercraft where doctors were waiting. They pumped my stomach and counteracted the poison. They needed their Victor.” 

“A wise old man once told me to remember who the enemy is. Well guess what? The enemy is not my fellow Tributes. The enemy is the Capitol, the Gamemakers, and President Shurley.” Dean looks down into the sand, the tip of his boot running through it. “If it weren’t for meeting Cas, I would have ended it back home. But I decided to live. For him. And for us. And to say fuck you to the Capitol. They might have driven me towards my death but despite them, I’m choosing to live. I am  _ choosing _ to take back my control. I am choosing  _ to fight _ .” Then softly he adds for everyone listening, “what will you choose?”

Dean turns away, feeling absolutely drained from his little speech. He needs his mate, needs the reassurance that living through his worst memories are worth it. 

“Beautiful, brother,” Benny says gently. 

Dean’s eyes scan the beach, his heart picking up speed. “Benny? Where’s Cas?”

“He’s right--” Benny starts to say, freezing when Cas is nowhere in sight. 

“Cas?” Dean calls out, already picking up his weapons and venturing into the jungle. His blood runs cold when he hears his alpha cry out in pain. 


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel stands to the side, letting Dean have the space he needs to get everything out. His heart breaks for his mate, hating the pain he’s gone through, hates what the Gamemakers forced on him. Hearing the truth from what happened once the screen went black steals Castiel’s breath. For a moment he can’t breathe. 

He’s so distracted watching his mate, that he doesn’t hear the two people approaching behind him. Once he realizes what’s happening, it’s too late. 

Abaddon and Alastair grab him from behind, covering his mouth and pulling him into the jungle. Castiel’s heart beats against his ribs so hard it hurts, his stomach up in his throat. 

They shove him against a tree and his breath is pushed from his lungs with the force of it, his head slamming back against the bark. His head is spinning, his sight growing foggy around the edges. 

Abaddon lets out a little laugh, sounding absolutely delighted by having him here. “Well, well, well,” she says, her voice causing a shiver to run down his spine. “If it isn’t the great Castiel. Such a valiant alpha, volunteering to protect your precious omega. So much better than the rest of us.”

Castiel tries to shake his head, to disagree with what she’s saying but Alistair is there, his big palm resting against Castiel’s cheek and keeping him still against the tree. Alastair’s smile makes his stomach sour and for a moment, Castiel is worried he’ll throw up everything he’s eaten today. 

Alastair pulls a blade from his belt, bringing it to Castiel’s face, letting the cool metal touch his lips. “What do you say?” he murmurs, his eyes glassy with bloodlust. “Should we start with the lips? It’s not like he’ll have use for them anymore,” he says with a laugh. 

Abaddon hums, petting his other cheek. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna hear the alpha beg.” She gets right into his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Give us one good reason why we should let you live.”

Castiel looks between the two of them, seeing the crazed look in their eyes and somehow, his heart figures out how to break even further. Look at what these Games have done. Look at the mutts they’ve created from their own people. Without any more thought, Castiel says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I can’t.”

They both freeze, their eyes widening at his statement. Instead of cutting into Castiel the way he assumed, they look at each other in confusion, wondering what they should do next. Castiel keeps going. 

“That’s the problem, isn’t it. I kill someone from your District in my Games. You kill someone from my District in your Games. It’s an endless cycle of killing and pitting us against each other.” Castiel looks at them. “I’m tired of doing their dirty work. I’m tired of killing the Capitol’s slaves for them.”

“I’m not one of their slaves,” Alastair spits out with as much venom as he can manage.

“Well I am! I’m just another piece in their sick and twisted Games, demanding I kill and fight and destroy. I won’t do it anymore. Because no one wins. Except the Capitol.”

Abaddon’s brows wrinkle and Castiel turns to her as fully as he can while Alastair holds him down. “We have no fight,” he tells them desperately. “Except for the one the Capitol created between us. We’ve been Victors long enough to know each other, even grow fond of one another. Why are we even fighting?” 

“We have to,” Abaddon says softly. 

“Well I won’t. Not anymore. Because you are not my enemy. Neither of you are. I have one enemy and it’s President Shurley for putting us in these Games to begin with.”

Abaddon takes a step back, looking over at Alastair. Castiel feels a tiny glimmer of hope spring up in his belly. It warms him, takes refuge inside his chest. For a brief moment, Castiel thinks he might be safe. That’s right before Alastair smiles and plunges his knife into Castiel’s stomach. 

Too many things happen at once. He cries out in pain, falling to his knees on the ground. He hears Dean coming towards them, his voice rising up through the jungle. And then, as Castiel falls onto his back, looking up at the crystal blue sky, everything shatters into a thousand, flaming pieces. Dirt flies through the air as an explosion rings out. The ground shakes beneath him but Castiel can’t move, can barely breathe. His final thought before he passes out is that the Arena is on fire. 

~~~

When Castiel comes back to himself, he’s in a white, sterile room, lying on a padded table. He tries to move and a pained groan leaves his throat without his permission. His eyes scan the room, finding it empty but for himself. Castiel tries to sit up, only to flop back down onto his back, pain lacing through his middle where Alastair had stabbed him. The pain throbs so forcibly that he promptly passes back out. 

~~~

The next time Castiel resurfaces, he feels more groggy but in less pain. He can sit up without passing out. Castiel thinks long and hard, trying to remember what the fuck happened, where he is. He remembers the Games, remembers getting taken by Alastair and Abaddon. He remembers the knife. But then--

“Dean,” he gets out through his raw throat, the word choking him. “Dean?”

Castiel starts getting up, groaning at the pain but ignoring it. He pulls his IV out of his hand, uncaring that it begins to bleed all over. He has to find Dean, has to find his omega. He needs to know that Dean is alive! 

Castiel is about to try standing when Dean bursts into the room, rushing to his side. “Cas. Hey, you’re okay. Sit back down, alpha.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah,” he says gently. “It’s me. We’re okay.”

Castiel lets himself be led back into the bed, laying back against the pillows. His mind is spinning. Everything is jumbled in his head, nothing makes any sense. Dean’s wrist finds his nose and Castiel holds it like a lifeline, taking in deep lungfuls of Dean’s scent. It washes over him, calming his flayed nerves, steadying him into the here and now. When he finally opens his eyes, he’s staring up into familiar green eyes. His eyes flick over Dean’s face, finding bruises and scratches but otherwise he’s perfect, and here, and  _ alive. _

“Dean, where are we?”

Dean makes a shushing noise, making him settle even further. His omega is here, his mate is okay. Castiel lets out a long breath, looking up at Dean for answers.

“We’re on a hovercraft. We’re on our way to District Twelve.”

Nothing is making any sense. “Tell me what happened.”

Dean gives a little nod before telling him, “I noticed you were gone as soon as I was done with my little speech,” Dean explains. “I came running as fast as I could.”

“I remember that. I think I saw you.”

Dean bites his bottom lip before going on. “Alastair stabbed you.”

Castiel remembers that part. His hand finds his stomach where the bandages are. “Yes. That was unpleasant,” he says with a grimace that makes Dean snort. 

“He stabbed you. So I killed him. After that the Arena literally exploded. Arthur Ketch arranged for our retrieval. I think he overestimated the amount of explosives to use because that blast was huge. I got to you just as you passed out.”

“Why was he retrieving us? Dean, how are we still alive?”

“Apparently there’s been shit going on behind the scenes for years. Spies and moles and double crossing. Long story short, Arthur Ketch was working with the rebels, helping any way he could behind the scenes.” Dean nods his head, his thumb gently running over Castiel’s stubbled cheek, his wrist still against his nose. “It was fucking wild,” he says gently. “Bobby told me that the rebels were able to rally. Once Benny and I started giving our speeches, the ones who were holding themselves back decided to join the fight as well. It was  _ your _ speech that pushed them over from fighting to winning.”

“My speech?”

Dean hums. “People decided they were done being the Capitol’s slaves. Cas,” Dean breathes, his eyes shining. “You  _ inspire _ people. You pushed them to take a stand, to demand justice, to demand  _ better _ .”

“What are you saying, Dean?”

“I’m saying that the rebels  _ won _ ,” Dean says, a smile lighting up his face. “President Shurley is dead.” Dean shakes his head, looking down. “We somehow did it. Every single District took back their power from the Peacekeepers. And then, once every District was in power, District 13 showed up. They had hovercrafts and bombs. They were able to go straight into the heart of the Capitol and take that over, too.” Dean lets out a broken noise as he shakes his head, overcome with the same emotions that Castiel feels. “We’re finally  _ free _ .”

Excitement flairs in Castiel’s belly, a giddy sort of noise escaping past his lips. “It’s over?”

Dean nods, tears shining in his eyes. “It’s over. There will never be another Hunger Games again.”


	11. Epilogue

_ Six Months Later _

Dean sits in the grass, his bare feet dipping into the lake. He swirls his toes around, smiling as a fish swims up before getting spooked and jolting away. His eyes flick up, watching as his mate walks through the field towards him from their little cabin. 

A lot of things have changed since they were broken from the arena. They came back to District Twelve, not wanting to leave their home. They’d decided to remodel the little house out here, make it into a proper home they can share, not even knowing they had a little one on the way quite yet. What a surprise this little one was. 

Dean’s hands find his extended belly, like they usually do. His belly is round, sticking out from his body proudly. Turns out all that chatter in the Arena about Dean being pregnant was right. Apparently the night they’d come together and knotted for the first time, mixed with that cocktail of hormones the Gamemakers had pumped into him, were enough to have Dean catching. Honestly, it was a one in a million chance. But that’s what President Shurley kept saying about the rebellion, and look where that got him. 

The little babe inside of Dean moves, making his insides clench. He never wanted this. Never dreamed it would happen. With the Games and the Capitol and President Shurley all breathing down his neck, he never wanted to bring another soul into the world and see them get reaped. Never wanted them to live in such poverty and strain that he lived in. But times are changing. 

District Twelve is free. There are no more fences. No more Peacekeepers. People are free to come and go as they please. There’s a train system that goes from District to District so they can share their resources. Each District has an elected representative that communicates with all the other Districts, keeping everyone on the same page instead of separated. Pride thrums through Dean’s chest as he thinks about Sammy, being District Twelve’s representative. Not so little anymore. 

Sammy now lives in the Mayor’s old house in the middle of the town. He has an open door policy, willing to be available for their people whenever they need. He’s a good man. Made even better with Eileen, the Tribute from District Eleven. She’s decided to move here, along with quite a few other Tributes. They all wanted to stick together with others who understood, others who had the same struggles. 

Dean’s not the only omega pregnant at the moment. Benny and Andrea were finally able to be together. Dean smiles thinking about their mating celebration, how he’d danced his ass off all night, joy so overwhelming it threatened to choke him. They’re expecting their first pup. It makes Dean happy, knowing their pups will grow up together. 

After the ash had all settled on the war, Bobby had filled in everything that had happened. His old mentor was pulling more strings than Dean could keep up with. But in the end, Dean couldn't find it in himself to be mad, not when he looks around and sees what they have now because of all the strings and ploys and plans. He’s safe. They all are. 

His mother waves at him with a wide smile, her long blonde hair shining in the sun. She’s so much more carefree these days, her face losing the hard edges it once had. She still takes care of the medical needs of the District but now she lives out here in the woods, across the lake from Dean and Castiel’s home. She still doesn’t live alone, but instead of Sam, she lives with Bobby now. That was an adjustment and a half but they make each other happy, it’s all Dean could ever hope for either of them. 

His alpha makes his way to Dean, sitting behind him, putting a leg on either side of Dean’s body. Dean leans back against Cas’ chest, practically purring when Cas’ hands come around and cradle his belly. The scent of Cas washes over him, making him even more relaxed than he already was. 

There are random children playing in the field not far from them, screaming and laughing. Dean smiles. They’re so carefree, not even realizing the horrors they’ve missed, which Dean is eternally grateful for. 

He and Cas still wake up at night, screaming out in terror from visions of their past Games. They still cling to each other in the dark of night, worried this could all just be a dream, that any day it could be plucked away again. But they have each other, soothing and reminding. They both know what it’s like inside the Arena and that bonds them even closer, able to keep each other in the present. 

“What are you thinking about?” Cas asks, nuzzling against the back of Dean’s neck. 

“Nothing really,” Dean says back, leaning further against his alpha. “Just us. Life. The usual.”

“Hmm,” Cas hums. He lets out a noise when the baby inside Dean’s belly kicks, barely there but Cas feels it. “Our little Jack can’t wait to come out and play with the other pups.”

Dean looks back up to the kids, watching as they pretend to be monsters and scaring each other. Dean’s glad that these are the only monsters they’ll ever know, because Dean knows from experience, there are much worse games to play. 


End file.
